Bromance is for Pussies
by inu382
Summary: Stan is tired of the bromance he and Kyle share, and wants more. In his quest for the Jew, he'll enlist a florist, a pervert, a fatass, an environmentalist, a gay man, a melvin, a douche, a turd sandwich, and another Jew.  Style, StanKyle, KyleStan
1. Prologue: Bromance is gay

I know, I know…..Sakura's Birthday AND Love Game, but I've been watching South Park so much….

Disclaimer: Don't own. Cursing. Shounen Ai. Blah.

Basically, I got tired of Stan being a little pussy about his crush on Kyle and always avoiding Kyle and Kyle having to be the one to fix everything. So, here's your sign.

* * *

Since they were young, Stan Marsh and Kyle Brofloski have been best friends. They went through everything together—from alien attacks to an annoying ass towel following them around. They shared a love that transcended all other forms of brotherly love…

Or so Stan thought.

Kyle seemed to be fine with the bromance they shared, but Stan was no longer satisfied. He wanted Kyle to feel what he felt—to see their love in Stan's eyes.

And goddammit, he was going to see it or Stan would start ripping on Jews, too.

It was with this notion in mind that Stan went to the flower store early Monday morning. He smiled at the receptionist—a pretty enough girl with curly blonds, though out of his age range and definitely not his gender preference. Or hair color preference. She also wasn't Jewish, and that was a _huge_ turn off.

"Hey, how can I help you?" she purred, in what Stan assumed to be a seductive manner.

"Sorry lady, I'm here buying flowers for the love of my life," he replied.

She frowned shortly before shrugging and sliding into a genuinely friendly persona, "So, what can I do for you?"

Stan smiled at this change, "I need flowers and chocolates. I want this person to know how much I love him and how it's not a fucking bromance anymore."

The girl was shocked for a bit, but regained face quickly, and laughed.

"So, tell me about this boy."

"Well, he's Jewish and—"

"Oh! You mean Kyle Brofloski," she interrupted.

"How'd you know?" Stan frowned.

"He's the only Jew guy in the whole town," she stated.

Stan conceded.

"So, Kyle's pretty straight, right?"

"He currently has a girlfriend by the name of"—he growled—"Bebe Stevens."

The girl winced, "Ouch. That'll be hard. That girl has an amazing rack."

Stan groaned, "Boobs aren't everything! I love Kyle, and he doesn't have any boobs!"

"I should hope not. Anyway, flowers upright aren't the way to go, man."

"Really?"

"Nah, first you have to destroy his relationship with Bebe."

"Oh. Makes sense."

"Naturally."


	2. Jew Juliet vs Environmentalist Juliet

My very first reviewer got a promise from me that I would start the night I got her review, because I didn't want her to have any more shitty nights.

Here's your sign.

* * *

"Nah, first you have to destroy his relationship with Bebe."

"Oh. Makes sense."

"Naturally."

And, it was after hearing these words that Stan Marsh decided his first mission would be just that. While Stan was not he genius Kyle was, he still realized that he would need help for this. And, he decided to go with his second closest friend—Kenny McCormick.

His first class, though, did not have Kenny in it, so—eager as he was to destroy Kyle's seemingly happy relationship—he would have to satisfy himself with staring at Kyle's ass.

Fair trade, he thought, and he took a minute to rove his eyes over his Jew.

Kyle was a lean, tall boy (not as tall as Stan) now. During the end of Junior High, Kyle was a complete dork—glasses, bad clothes, the works. Stan still loved him. Then something happened over summer break.

Kyle got hot. Really hot.

He traded the glasses for contacts that brought out his deep emerald green eyes out more. He only bought his clothes from H&M, and had a European-Oliver Twist-Indie sort of look to him that made his skinny, lean body seem sexier. He would wear things like cow boy boots with a vest, and he would look amazing. Every day, he'd have some sort of sunglasses on that made every girl swoon and wonder if he was looking at them.

Realizing that Cartman would be harder to beat up, what with his constant weight gain, Kyle even started working out regularly, and kept his lean body very well toned; Stan marveled at the times he would tackle Kyle in one of their play-fights and would touch the washboard stomach.

His once unruly Jew-fro finally loosened, and his deep auburn curls framed his face. He always kept his red curls at just the right length, so that it gave him a skater-boyish look to him that—had it been any other person—would've clashed with his clothes, but Kyle pulled it off with poise and grace.

Stan was practically drooling the first day Kyle had revealed this new style to him mid-summer, and he was glad he didn't show him in school, or he'd have to wear some sort of hood ornament for his pants.

But, I digress.

English wasn't Stan's best subject, usually, but after Kyle had reprimanded him for not trying hard enough, Stan immediately put his ass to work and managed to do a stellar job in that class; thanks to this, he earned a prideful smile from the Jew every time the teacher handed Stan back a test with an 'A' on it.

"Let's see," Ms. Mercury mumbled to herself, and handed back their tests, "Very good job, Mr. Marsh. Another A. I think you're starting to like this class."

Stan smiled at her, then looked at the chair before him, where Kyle had turned to smile back at the brunette.

'Good job,' Kyle mouthed.

'Thanks, dude,' Stan mouthed back, beaming happily.

"Now then," the teacher announced, "Since this class also doubles as a drama class (damn budget cuts), we'll be performing the school play. It's only natural for us to have auditions, and we have a limited number of students. We need at least twenty one students to act in the play, so I've decided the students in this class will be the ones acting, and the students in my other class will deal with backstage and backgrounds. If any student wishes to switch, raise your hand now so I can find a replacement actor."

Stan was practically in love with Ms. Mercury. Practically.

Imagine—he could play Romeo, and sweep his beautiful Jewish Juliet off his feet! He could run his hands through Juliet's soft, curly red hair, and kiss the living daylights out of the seemingly unconscious Jew. And then, Kyle would admit he always loved Stan, dump Bebe, and they would be together forever!

'Oh, beautiful fortune! How you blesseth me!' Stan thought to himself.

And then Kyle started to raise his hand.

'Fucking fortune!'

With a desperate leap, Stan jumped over his desk and pinned Kyle's arms to his desk as the teacher turned to start writing names down on the board.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Kyle hissed at him.

"Dude, no, you can't leave me!"

"Then just come with me to the backstage crew!"

"N-No, we can't! I-I want to be Romeo, and I need you to be Mercutio or something!"

"Dude, I don't want to act. I'd rather just work on backstage stuff."

"B-b-but Cartman!"

"What about fatass?"

"He's in the other class! He'll destroy everything you do! He'll make it look like you ruined the play! At least if you act with me, he can't ruin your memory!"

"He can have it so that some backdrop falls on me while I'm acting. If I'm in control of that, I think I'll be safer."

"Kenny's in the other class too! He'll molest you backstage!"

"I'll just tell him that if he keeps Cartman off me, I'll give him a kiss and he'll be busy."

Stan growled, "Then you'll have to kiss him!"

Kyle raised an eyebrow, confused a little at his best friend's tone, but responded nonetheless.

"Yeah, on the cheek. I won't ever agree to making out with him."

"He'll go for more!"

"I'll push him into the street, and deal with his pissed off ass the next day, when he comes back."

Stan was running out of excuses. Urgently, he looked around the room for another excuse and grinned as he found one.

Wendy Testaburger.

"Dude, what if she pairs me up with Wendy?"

"So? You don't care about Wendy anymore, right?"

"No! But I need your moral support! Please! You're my super best friend, right? Don't leave me!"

"Mr. Marsh!" The teacher frowned, "Will you please get off Mr. Brofloski?"

Stan nodded and sat back, looking at Kyle's deliberating face. Kyle sighed, and Stan knew he had won.

The super best friend card always worked.

"Fine, dude. I'll stay and act."

'YES.'

Ms. Mercury finished writing the names of the students who weren't acting, handed all the students scripts, and then ushered them all out slightly early so that they could start memorizing their lines.

"Dude," Stan said as he walked along side Kyle to their next class, "Will you help me practice?"

"Sure, Stan," Kyle replied, a little sour.

"Aw, c'mon Kyle. Don't be sore at me. I'm sorry. I just couldn't do it without you."

He gave Kyle a side-hug, grinning his most winning smile at the Jew.

"You're my muse, dude."

Kyle finally let out a small laugh, and half-heartedly hugged Stan back.

"Right, right. You write all your poetry to me and it's always about your undying love to me, right?"

They both laughed, Kyle unaware of how real that statement was. Then, Kyle separated himself from Stan, eliciting a frown from the taller boy.

"Yo. I thought we were hugging. You can't stop hugging me until its mutual separation."

Laughing again, Kyle stopped at their shared locker. Stan leaned against the lockers beside Kyle, waiting his turn to grab his books.

"I didn't realize there were rules," Kyle replied, "And I would, but you know how mad Bebe gets when she sees us like that." Kyle frowned. "Remember how long it took me to convince her I wasn't cheating on her with you after _you_ decided it would be a good idea to start kissing my cheek?"

"Metro-sexual was in again!" Stan defended.

"And remember that time you slept over at my place, and Bebe found us naked the next day because you said it would be a good idea to go to sleep in the same bed after playing strip poker?"

"It was sweltering!" Stan was proud of himself for knowing that word.

It seemed Kyle was too, because he smiled briefly at Stan before frowning again.

"It doesn't matter. For one, Kenny almost molested _both_ of us, and Bebe broke up with me because of that!"

"You got back together, didn't you?" It took so much effort to keep the resentment out of his voice…

"Yeah, by some miracle I did."

"Hardly would call it a miracle," Stan mumbled to himself.

"What was that?"

"I said, yeah, what an amazing miracle," he corrected quickly.

Kyle gave him a skeptical look, then shrugged it off.

"Look, I've gotten into enough gay and compromising situations with you to think you have some sort of crush on me"—Stan laughed a little awkwardly—"and while I know better, Bebe is starting to believe that. I just don't want to put our relationship into any more risk."

"Awww, that's so sweet of you to say," a feminine voice said, and small arms materialized around Kyle's torso as Bebe hugged herself to Kyle's back. Kyle smiled back and turned around, giving his girlfriend a kiss.

Over the years, Stan resentfully admitted, Bebe got _really hot_. True to form, her chest came in before any of the other girls', and she had an amazing rack. She had a not-too-skinny waist, with beautiful blonde curls around her face and cascading down her back. She had bright blue eyes, an ass that rivaled Kyle's infamous behind (if you asked Stan, she proved to be no competition), and long, athletic legs. Her face was obviously made by Greek gods, because no one in the school could compare. _Maybe_ Wendy. In short, Bebe was the answer to every heterosexual man's dreams. And she was smart.

Stan was starting to get angry at how long Bebe's description was.

Bebe, true to her word way back in grade school, didn't want anything handed to her just because she had a nice rack. She worked hard to continue having good character—character enough to amuse Kyle, the pickiest guy in school when it came to women, and very arguably one of the most attractive students.

The girls had made another list, and Stan had just _barely_ won.

Stan scowled at the couple as they talked shortly. He sighed when Bebe finally released Kyle, giving him one more kiss. As she left, Bebe politely said a goodbye to Stan, which he returned as nicely as he could manage—a hard task when she was stealing his man. Kyle moved out of the way, and Stan moodily got his books out, ignoring the frown Kyle was giving him.

"Dude, I just don't understand why you get all emo on me when Bebe's around."

"I do not get all emo."

"Right. You get all goth. My mistake."

Stan growled (fourth time today?), but was saved from responding further as Kenny approached them, slapping each of them on their asses.

One Kenny McCormick. Aged 17. Occupation: Student, pervert.

Like Kyle, Kenny had his own sort of make-over during the summer break before high school. Kenny decided to get a job, and buy his own clothes from thrift stores. Bad as that may sound, Kenny was the sort of guy who could make anything out of any cloth. He would sow his own clothing out of some cheap fabrics he found at thrift stores, and make an interesting style all his own. Not quite the indie style Kyle developed, but not quite the mainstream style the school enjoyed, either. He made it a personal note to burn his orange, cursed parka and danced around it as the flames encompassed it.

He promptly caught fire, and came back the next day, cursing the burnt spot where the remains of his parka lay.

Kenny grew to be tall, and with this new income of his, he was able to eat more, and actually filled out a little more than in his youth. He was also a notorious pervert. During their freshman year, Kenny was surprised to see how attractive he found Stan.

Then Kyle walked into the school in cow boy boots and Kenny practically had an orgasm.

Kenny decided he was definitely bi, and made every and any pass he could towards his two very attractive friends. Not a day went by that he didn't thank god for finally rewarding him for dealing with Stan and Kyle's frequent neglect by giving him the two sexiest guys in the school. Better yet? His sexy ass Jew friend had the sexiest girlfriend in the entire school.

Could life get any better?

"Kenny, I need to talk to you privately," Stan suddenly said.

Apparently it could.

"Are you finally going to admit you want me back and have sex with me in the janitors' closet?"

"Hardly," Stan replied, unfazed, "I just need to talk to you."

"Besides," Kyle was quick to correct, wrapping an arm around Stan's waist, "he'd rather have sex with me in the janitors' closet, right?"

"Absolutely," Stan replied, grinning back, "Today or tomorrow?"

"Let's make it tomorrow. Bebe is going to be out for a doctor's appointment."

"Can I watch?" Kenny asked.

Kyle and Stan laughed, Kyle more heartily than Stan.

"No, Kenny. It's not really happening," Kyle informed.

"Damn. You guys still owe me for not letting me molest you during your naked sleepover. If I didn't break into Kyle's room, I never would've even known."

"Kenny, do you know how many laws you just admitted to breaking in that one statement?" Stan asked.

"Yes. I don't care."

The bell rang, and the boys groaned.

"Anyway, Kenny, meet me at the tree outside school during lunch."

"You're not eating with me?" Kyle asked, a small frown on his lips.

"You'll have Bebe. You won't be lonely," Stan _hated_ using that line, but this meeting was of the upmost importance.

"Fine," Kyle said, mock-hurt, "I can see how much you love me."

"I promise to make it up to you next time we play strip poker and I stay over. I'll actually go to third base."

"Without throwing up on me?" Kyle asked.

"I'll stop myself from eating that day."

Kyle grinned, and patted Stan on his shoulder, then turned and walked away. Stan watching him go, then jumped as Kenny pinched his ass. As he turned to punch Kenny, he saw the blonde boy run down the hall. Stan sighed, deciding it wasn't worth it, and walked to his own class, rubbing his ass.

* * *

Eric Cartman sighed, barely listening to Ms. Mercury as she talked about some gay play they were having. Romeo and Juliet—figures. What cliché ass school doesn't have this damn play?

He sat back in his chair, glaring at the front. It was bad enough he wasn't in the same class as Wendy—he was stuck with Kenny, instead.

Cartman was shocked when Kyle walked into the school with an 'I'm-too-sexy' aura. Not only did the Jew make girls swoon, he made Wendy blush when he talked to her once. _Blush_. Cartman decided that wasn't going to do, and started working out himself. While Kyle could still kick his ass (barely!), Cartman had lost his target weight, and was more muscular than before.

Determined to make Wendy notice him, he even joined the prestigious football team, and was a lineman. This made him grit his teeth—Stan the animal-loving-pussy was still quarterback. Worse yet, Stan actually got good at the game. And, though Wendy would attend the games just to support Bebe's cheerleading, she could still very easily cheer for Stan or sit by Kyle and talk to that faggy Jew.

He groaned as the teacher said that there were spots open for actors, and watched some students raise their hands, probably all hoping to be the leads. And he bet that the two playing Romeo and Juliet would probably hook up after the kiss they shared revealed that they loved each other.

He widened his eyes. What if Wendy played Juliet? And Cartman played Romeo? A small grin formed on his lips as he thought of this possibility.

Imagine—he could play Romeo, and sweep his beautiful environmentalist Juliet off her feet! He could run his hands through Juliet's soft, silky black hair, and kiss the living daylights out of the seemingly unconscious girl. And then, Wendy would admit she always loved Cartman, forget Kyle and Stan, and they would be together forever!

He raised his hand excitedly, and Kenny raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and joined his once fat friend.

"Mr. Cartman and Mr. McCormick? I'm impressed. I didn't think you'd want to act, but I'm glad you've decided to," the teacher smiled and wrote their names on the list.

Cartman smirked, a plan forming in his head. He would win Wendy, or he'd kiss Kyle's ass.


	3. The Pervert and The Fatass

I am on a fucking roll. The Hush Sound is my muse ;)

Here's your sign.

* * *

Imagine—he could play Romeo, and sweep his beautiful environmentalist Juliet off her feet! He could run his hands through Juliet's soft, silky black hair, and kiss the living daylights out of the seemingly unconscious girl. And then, Wendy would admit she always loved Cartman, forget Kyle and Stan, and they would be together forever!

He raised his hand excitedly, and Kenny raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and joined his once fat friend.

"Mr. Cartman and Mr. McCormick? I'm impressed. I didn't think you'd want to act, but I'm glad you've decided to," the teacher smiled and wrote their names on the list.

Cartman smirked, a plan forming in his head. He would win Wendy, or he'd kiss Kyle's ass.

* * *

Lunch came around, the majority of the student populous leaving to eat out; those students who passed Stan and Kenny, who stood under the large tree in the middle of the grass, were oblivious to the nature of their conversation.

"So, what's so important that you're willing to meet _me_ alone?" Kenny asked jokingly, "Have a boner for Kyle or something?"

"Yes," was the prompt reply. Kenny had trouble keeping his milk down—if it wasn't for the fact that he believed in never wasting food, it would've flown right out of his mouth and onto Stan. A second late, he regretted not spitting out his milk and seeing Stan drenched with his clothes sticking close to him.

Damn.

"So, let me get this straight," Kenny started slowly after regaining face, "You really have a boner for Kyle?"

"A hard one, Kenny. A really hard boner," Stan said, shaking his head.

Kenny licked his lips unconsciously, and Stan blanched at his word choice.

"Oh, shut up, Kenny. You know what I mean. Anyway, it's more than a boner. I love Kyle, dude."

Kenny blinked, a little surprised, "Does anyone else know?"

"No. You're the first friend I've told."

Kenny smiled, hugging Stan in a non-I'm-about-to-rape-you way. Stan, taken aback, cautiously wrapped his arms back around Kenny.

"Kenny?"

The blonde separated himself from Stan, smiling. "I just think it's cool that you trust me enough to tell me."

Stan smiled back, nodding.

"So, why'd you tell me?"

"I need your help getting Kyle to love me."

"He does love you."

"Yeah, bromance love. That's gay love." Kenny raised an eyebrow, amused. He, however, refrained from correcting Stan on how much gayer it was to be _in_ love with your bro.

"Well, how am I supposed to help?"

"I don't know. The florist said I had to break him and Bebe up first."

"Florist?"

"I wanted to buy Kyle flowers and chocolate, but she said first I had to destroy his relationship with Bebe."

"Oh. Makes sense."

"I thought so, too."

"So, how do we go about that?"

"Well, I don't know. I don't want them to break up all angrily or something, because then it'll take forever for Kyle to realize he loves me back and we might be in college by then. Besides, Bebe's a good girl. I just hate that she's with Kyle."

"Yeah. They make a damn good couple, though. This'll be hard."

"I know. I don't know what to do, though, so that it's a good break up."

They both sighed.

* * *

Cartman was a little baffled to see Kyle and Bebe eating alone on a bench in front of the school. Curious, he decided to approach them. His face scrunched into one of disgust as Kyle leaned over, pulling Bebe's head over with his hand, connecting their lips. He decided that was one of many Kyle-Bebe images he should erase from his mind.

"Hey Jew, Ho. Where are the other fags?"

Kyle, very much used to the Cartman's verbal jabs, just separated himself from Bebe and looked at him. "Don't call Bebe a ho."—"Thanks, Kyle."—"Don't know, fat tits. Stan said he needed to talk to Kenny alone, so they're at the tree behind the school."

Cartman sneered, "They aren't making out, are they?"

"Hardly. Stan would be gay for me before he would be gay for Kenny," Kyle snorted.

Bebe frowned a little, scooting herself closer to Kyle. The Jew took quick notice, and wrapped an arm around her. "However, you're here, and you make me very straight."

Bebe smiled a little, "Glad to hear that."

Cartman rolled his eyes and headed towards the tree, unwilling to see more of Jew-Ho love. He glared at the two boys standing under the tree—especially Stan.

Grudgingly, Cartman had to admit that Kyle was much better looking than ever, and that fact made him wonder how Stan managed to win—even just barely—in that second list the girls made of who was the hottest guy in school. And this time, he had been assured, the list had not been compromised with the promise of free shoes.

Stan was the shortest of them all at the end of Junior High, so when he came in freshman year with a sudden growth spurt, it was a bit of a surprise. Stan grew his bangs out, and they stayed just above his eyes. The rest of his hair was cut short, in a very clean style, making his mostly blemish-free face stand out. Stan didn't go the European route like Kyle, nor did he invent his own style like Kenny. He was definitely a jock, and Stan was up to date with the latest shoe wear. Though his style was very mainstream, he incorporated some of his inner emo to accentuate his clothes.

He wore skinny jeans often, tight shirts that were the latest brand, and various wrist bands. Cartman was still confused as to how that qualified as "hottest guy in school", and asked some girls.

According to them, it wasn't his sense of style at all, or the fact that he had a muscular, but lean body, or even the fact that he was rumored to have a huge bulge. The reason was his eyes. His ever-clear baby blues entranced anyone who looked into them. If one happened to catch him smile—genuinely smile—they'd see the way his blue eyes shine like the brightest sapphire gems. If someone saw him sad or angry, they'd see the way his eyes would become some sort of stormy blue.

A common word Cartman heard during these descriptions was "breathtaking."

He scoffed and approached them closer, intent on making his presence known, until he heard some serious blackmail material.

"Have a boner for Kyle or something?" Kenny had asked, and it was obvious he was joking.

"Yes," Stan said quickly and Cartman was taken aback. It was slightly enjoyable to see Kenny choke on his milk for a while—probably had something to do with his belief of never wasting food. Cartman watched on as Kenny regained face, and stood straight, looking at Stan quite seriously.

"So, let me get this straight," Kenny said slowly, "You really have a boner for Kyle?"

"A hard one, Kenny. A really hard boner," Stan replied, shaking his head.

Cartman silently groaned, disgusted at his word choice. It seemed Stan caught on to what he had said as well.

"Oh, shut up, Kenny. You know what I mean. Anyway, it's more than a boner. I love Kyle, dude."

"Does anyone else know?"

"No. You're the first friend I've told."

Cartman tuned them out as they got into their little faggy hug routine, and contemplated this very important information he came upon. Stan had a boner for the Jew. Could this work out to his advantage, or would it just backfire with him? He _could_ start ripping on them for it, but then Wendy wouldn't very much like him. Oh, but the possibilities!

"I need your help getting Kyle to love me," he heard Stan say.

"He does love you."

"Yeah, bromance love. That's gay love." Cartman snorted, noting that it's gayer to be _in_ love with your bro. Judging by Kenny's amused grin, he was thinking the same thing.

"Well, how am I supposed to help?"

"I don't know. The florist said I had to break him and Bebe up first."

"Florist?"

"I wanted to buy Kyle flowers and chocolate, but she said first I had to destroy his relationship with Bebe."

'Faggots,' Cartman thought to himself, shaking his head.

"Oh. Makes sense."

"I thought so, too."

"So, how do we go about that?"

"Well, I don't know. I don't want them to break up all angrily or something, because then it'll take forever for Kyle to realize he loves me back and we might be in college by then. Besides, Bebe's a good girl. I just hate that she's with Kyle."

"Yeah. They make a damn good couple, though. This'll be hard."

"I know. I don't know what to do, though, so that it's a good break up."

They both sighed, and Cartman's wheels started working overtime in his head.

"So far, I've gotten myself and Kyle to be in the play, so that we're both acting. I figure if I play Romeo and Kyle somehow plays Juliet, he'll fall in love with me and dump Bebe."

Cartman's eyes widened.

"Funny. Cartman and I are acting, too. I don't know why he was so eagar to do it, but whatever."

A slow grin started forming on his face.

"Fatass? Awwww, lame. He'll probably try to screw me over somehow."

"Au contraire," Cartman replied, finally letting himself be known, "You scratch my back, I get you your Jew."

Stan and Kenny turned around, shocked to hear _Cartman's_ voice, of all people. Stan growled and grabbed Cartman's shirt, pulling him in face to face.

"Listen fat tits, if you so much as say a _word_ to Kyle, I'll fucking—"

"Oh, shut up, Stan," Cartman was quick to interrupt, "Now let me go before word gets to Kyle about you trying to kick my ass, and your bad-at-lying ass tries to explain to Kyle why this whole scene happened."

Reluctantly, Stan let the other boy go, gritting his teeth.

"The hell do you want from me, Cartman? Money? Favors?"

"Sexual favors?" Kenny helpfully supplied, and Stan kicked him.

Cartman grinned, "No, I don't want any of that."

"Well, what?" Kenny frowned.

"Wendy."

"Wendy?" Kenny and Stan asked in unison.

"Wendy," Cartman affirmed. "I want Wendy to fall in love with me."

"Why?" Stan scowled, "So you can screw her over? So you can break her heart? So you can bang her and leave her? Well, fuck you! I'm not helping you hurt Wendy you fucking—"

"Goddammit!" Cartman interrupted again, "I don't want to hurt her!"

"Well, why?" Kenny asked.

Cartman muttered something unintelligible, and the other two boys looked at each other, bemused.

"Come again?" Stan asked. Cartman repeated himself, slightly louder, but not loud enough for the other two boys to hear him.

"Goddamn it, Cartman, just say it already, will you?" Stan retorted.

"Goddammit, you fucking fags, I like her!" Cartman finally yelled, a few wary gazes looking towards him, but otherwise leaving him alone.

Stan looked at Kenny. Kenny looked at Stan.

T hey immediately started laughing.

"Y-You really expect us to believe that?" Stan mirthfully asked.

"I-It's like saying y-you have a heart!" Kenny chuckled.

Cartman scowled. He had to prove somehow that he really did love Wendy, or his newly thought up plan would go to shit before he even started it.

"Look, you guys," he started, completely serious. His change of tone caught Stan and Kenny's attention, and they looked at him curiously. "I hate Kyle. I hate him so much I wish he would die. I've been trying to give him AIDS since 3rd grade."

"You did. And you found the cure for it," Kenny deadpanned.

"Yeah, but only because he threatened my 360. Otherwise, I would've let him die. I want nothing but his absolute misery. I enjoy the sight of his tears and pain and hope that that's how he'll live his life."

Stan's eye twitched, "The fuck is your point? If you're trying to convince me—"

Another interruption. "But I will do everything in my power to make him the happiest man on the earth—even go out of my way to make you two happy—so long as it means I get to be with Wendy."

Stan looked at Kenny. Kenny looked at Stan.

They both let out a breath they hadn't realized they were holding.

"Well, shit. I'm thinking he really likes her," Kenny stated.

"I think I might have to agree," Stan replied.

"Finally," Cartman sighed, "Now listen up, fags. I have a plan that might work."

"What sort of plan?" Kyle's voice asked from behind them. All three boys jumped, each letting out a rather unmanly sound before turning and giving Kyle their best smiles.

"No plan! What plan? Were we talking about a plan? Not at all, right guys?" Kenny asked.

Cartman and Stan both nodded, laughing somewhat awkwardly. Bebe looked up at Kyle as he raised his eyebrow at the boys, narrowing his eyes.

"Right. I believe you. Now what's up?"

All three boys smiled unconvincingly as they each thought up an excuse, and suddenly, Stan sighed.

"We can't hide it anymore, guys."

"What? You're gonna tell him now? In front of Bebe?" Kenny asked, incredulous.

Cartman glared at the brunette, "Stan, don't you dare."

"We're caught guys. Might as well tell them."

Kyle's eyebrows furrowed, thoroughly confused. "What is it?"

"Your anniversary is coming up soon, and we were planning a party for you guys, but you decided to ruin it by finding out about it," Stan replied.

Bebe and Kyle looked surprised, then the Jew smiled fondly. "Aw, sorry Stan. I didn't mean to ruin the surprise. That's really thoughtful of you." He let go of Bebe and hugged the taller boy close.

Stan suppressed the urge to smile idiotically and to grab the Jew's ass as he hugged him back, and he nodded. "It's cool, dude. I suppose you have a right to know, anyway. So get ready for an awesome party."

"I'm amazed you remembered," Bebe said, taking her turn to hug Stan. It took all his 'disaprin' not to make the hug stony. Instead, he pretended he was hugging Kyle with boobs, and was able to manage a warm hug.

Bebe smiled more as she released him, then walked to back to Kyle's side, holding his hand. Kyle smiled at the other two. "And you guys were in on this? I'm really surprised, then. I didn't think you cared, fatass." Suddenly, a suspicious frown appeared on the Jew's mouth. "Wait. Why are you in on this?"

Cartman grumbled, and Kenny patted his back. "He's in it for the booze."

Kyle nodded like that made all the sense in the world, and turned his head slightly as the bell rang. "Welp, better get back inside. See you in class, Stan." And Kyle and Bebe turned around and walked inside, oblivious to Stan's look of utter envy.

"Do you have class with Kyle now?" Kenny asked.

"No. Not 'til next period."

"Well, I don't have anything important right now," Cartman stated.

"Me either," Kenny replied.

"I say we skip and see that florist chick. She has pretty good advice. While we're at it, you can tell us about this plan of yours, Cartman," Stan decided.

They agreed, and on their way they went.

* * *

"You couldn't come up with a better lie that _didn't_ reinforce their relationship? Now he thinks you approve!" the florist, named Flora (inventive, no?) groaned.

"It was all I could think of!" Stan defended.

"I suppose it doesn't matter now…hopefully you can break them up before you really have to do this party, or the damage will be irreversible."

"Well, Cartman has a plan that might work…" Kenny muttered.

"What's that?"

"Well, how do most countries take over other countries with little force?" Cartman asked.

"War?"

"Bio-weapons?"

"Sex?"

Everyone glared at Kenny for a second, before turning their attention back to Cartman. "No, you dick-holes! Look, when a country wants to take over a country with as little force as possible, they exploit their weakness."

"Okay. What's Bebe's weakness?" Stan pondered.

"Hell if I know."

"So what the hell is the point of telling us this plan?" Kenny frowned.

"That wasn't the plan, assholes!" Cartman's nerves were really being tried. "Listen, Stan. There's no way Kyle would ever be Juliet. Whatever plan you were thinking of there is shot straight to hell."

"Why the hell not?" Stan pouted.

"Because, Wendy will end up being Juliet, and you know it. And Bebe will probably be her understudy. And we both know you don't want to kiss Wendy _or_ Bebe." He took Stan's grimace as agreement. "So, instead, don't try out for Romeo. And we'll fuck around with the play."

"Fuck around? How?"

"I'll rewrite the play so that I still get to kiss Wendy, and so that you get to kiss the Jew."

"What?" Stan asked, disbelieving.

"Listen. We'll give Romeo and Juliet a whole new back story—a gay back story. We'll say the reason the Capulets and the Montagues hate each other is because, when they were young, Capulet and Montague had relationships, and they failed pathetically."

"And then Stan and Kyle would have a whole gay part to play in the show," Flora said, realization hitting her. "And who can argue that? That's a damn good reason to hate each other and not want your children together."

"That way you and the fag still get to kiss and so do Wendy and I."

"All right. What about Bebe?" Stan asked.

"All we have to do is find out the weak link in their relationship before the play. We still have two months," Cartman said flippantly.

"How will we make it so that Romeo and Juliet has that back story?" Kenny asked.

"Leave that to me, Kenny. Stan!"

Stan looked at Cartman. "What?"

"You have to get Kyle to agree to be Montague _before_ he gets the rewritten version of the script. I'll have that in a week."

"Now then, for this weakness thing," Flora began, "I say you have a party with alcohol. Lots of it. Is Kyle a drinker?"

"Practically an alcoholic," Stan replied.

"Good. And Bebe?"

"We can manage to get her to drink," Kenny assured.

"Good. People always talk more when they're drunk. I doubt Kyle sees any problems with their relationship, so just get him drunk and away from Bebe. I'm willing to bet if there are any problems with their relationship, Bebe will be the one suffering from them."

Stan frowned. "How do you know it'll be Bebe?"

"Trust me. It's always the women."

"Makes sense," Kenny shrugged.

"Naturally."


	4. The Environmentalist

P3P gave me a pretty intense review. Also, I saw how bad that last chapter was, in terms of just basic proofreading, and decided that next time I type a chapter, I should be awake.

Here's your sign.

* * *

"Good. People always talk more when they're drunk. I doubt Kyle sees any problems with their relationship, so just get him drunk and away from Bebe. I'm willing to bet if there are any problems with their relationship, Bebe will be the one suffering from them."

Stan frowned. "How do you know it'll be Bebe?"

"Trust me. It's always the women."

"Makes sense," Kenny shrugged.

"Naturally."

The boys returned to school in time for their next class; they all agreed to meet some time after school to plan a party. Stan walked to his locker, frowning at this foreign emotion. It wasn't like him to conspire against his best friend like this—and with Cartman, of all people—but he was damned if he was going to stay in the closet any longer.

He was no Tom Cruise, dammit!

He opened the locker with practiced ease, and thought about the small tidbit of advice Flora had given him as he was leaving.

"_Hey, Stan," Flora called._

"_Yeah?"_

"_You need be a flirt."_

"_What?"_

"_With Kyle. Flirt a little more. More than you probably already do. Put it in his head, so that when he breaks up with Bebe, he can recall all those times you hit on him, and think about how those flirtations might've been real. It'll be really eye-opening. Trust me."_

"_How do you know?"_

"_I think I saw it in one of the Scott Pilgrim books…"_

After thoroughly reading all six of the Pilgrim books during his class with Kyle (and the extra freebie book), Stan deduced that it was not there that she got the idea, but it gave him some ideas on how to be awkwardly flirtatious. It also gave him a whole new appreciation for the "Hipster" style which, he realized, was what he could probably classify Kyle as.

"_Also," _she had said, _"Try to find his inner gayness. There's always one 'girl thing' every guy loves to do. Make sure you're the only person who _really_ enjoys doing it with him."_

Stan was going to object, but well, he _was_ in love with his male best friend, and he supposed that was pretty girly. So, he just nodded and promised he'd follow her advice.

"Hey, man!" he heard, and turned.

"Yo," he smiled at Kyle.

"What were you doing reading Scott Pilgrim during math?" Kyle frowned, "You promised me you would work harder from now on in all your classes."

Stan was going to reply with something asinine, and brush it off. He was going to change the subject immediately, but instead, he grinned and moved in closer to the Jew, wrapping his arm around the others' waist.

"Well, you're going to have to up your rewards. A smile isn't gonna do it for me anymore," he purred.

He expected Kyle to roll his eyes, and throw Stan off him. He even expected a disgusted frown. All he got was a bemused look before Kyle smiled slowly smiled and wrapped an arm around Stan. His eyelids lowered and he leaned in, grinning all the while.

"Well, Stan, what did you have in mind?" he asked.

Stan saw the spark of amusement in Kyle's green eyes, and realized that—of course—his super best friend was just joking. Ever since Kyle and Bebe had gone out, and especially since Bebe broke up with Kyle after she thought he was cheating on her with Stan, Kyle hadn't joked much with Stan like that anymore. Truth be told, the Jew missed having his playful taunts with Stan. He missed the vulgar sexual passes they made at each other. He enjoyed the fact that they had gotten to the level where their sexuality was never in question around each other, but then Bebe decided it wasn't so cool for two guys to sleep in a bed together, naked.

…

Okay, so it _did_ look bad, but Stan was his best friend. Bros before hos, right? Well, Bebe wasn't a ho, but Stan would always come first. So, Kyle took advantage of the fact that Bebe's class was all the way on the other side of the school, and she wouldn't see them like this. Because, much as he enjoyed Bebe, he missed Stan. And though they were super best friends, he feared that they were drifting apart because of Bebe. They hardly hung out, and it didn't take a genius to see that, for some reason, Bebe wasn't Stan's favorite person. He liked her enough when she wasn't with Kyle, which led Kyle to think at some point that Stan liked her and hated her for picking Kyle, but then Stan wasn't that type of person. Kyle had just assumed that Stan thought Bebe was taking him from Stan.

So, Stan leaned in more, making their noses touch, and whispered low, "Remember when I promised we should go to third base?"

Kyle hummed, closing his eyes, "Whenever you want, baby."

"Holy shit, this is so hot," a voice interrupted.

Kyle immediately separated himself from Stan and scowled at Kenny, whose expression mirrored the one he wore the day Kyle first entered the school.

"Why'd you stop?" Kenny asked, frowning.

"Could you let me romance Kyle privately, please?" Stan asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Right? He was about to get me in bed, and you totally ruined it, Kenny," Kyle sighed dramatically.

"Could you fags _please_ get a goddamn room?" Cartman asked as he walked by, a scowl deeply imbedded on his face.

Kyle laughed, enjoying the others' expression, and Stan soon joined in. Kenny smiled, and looked at his wrist watch. "Oh, shit. We should go to class, guys."

Kyle took out his pocket watch, flipped it open, and glanced at the time. "You're right," he agreed, and Stan felt pathetic for thinking Kyle looked sexy with a pocket watch.

"Well, all right. Hey, Kyle, are you free tomorrow?" Stan asked.

It was the first time in a while since Stan had asked Kyle that, so the Jew was taken aback slightly. Honestly, he had promised Bebe to take her out to a movie, but bros before hos, right? Bebe would understand—even she noticed how strangely Stan had been acting toward Kyle in the last year. At the beginning of the year, he'd completely avoided Kyle. Then, he couldn't leave Kyle's side. Then, he played strip poker with Kyle and slept in Kyle's bed naked. Seemingly, their relationship was back to normal, but Stan never asked to hang out—Kyle would always be the one to ask, if ever—and Kyle ended up just hanging out with Bebe more often.

"Yeah, man," he replied, hoping he didn't take too long to respond, "You wanna hang out?"

"Yeah. I'm planning on having a party, so I wanted you to help me with it. Besides, I never see you. We need to throw rocks at cars or something."

"You want me to plan my own anniversary party?"

"No, man, another party."

"For what?"

Stan blinked. He honestly hadn't thought of that part. He'd used up his God-given-free-card when he lied about the anniversary party, and he was honestly out of ideas at that point.

"Since when do we need a reason for a party? Stan's parents are gonna be out this weekend, so we figured we'd have a party," Kenny interjected, and Stan shot him a grateful look.

The Jew didn't miss the look, but let it go. "So, you're having two parties? Risky. We barely cleaned up the last party you had."

Stan laughed, recalling, "We would've cleaned everything up faster if you hadn't attached yourself to me."

"I wouldn't have attached myself to you if Kenny hadn't tried to molest me while I was drunk."

"I wouldn't have tried to molest you if you weren't so damn sexy."

"And you three faggots wouldn't be late for my class if you would learn to walk and talk instead of standing out here like a bunch of dumbasses," Mr. Garrison snorted from behind them. The three boys jumped, groaned, and walked ahead of their teacher to their next class. How that man got promoted to high school, they'll never know.

The saying "some things never change" would certainly come to mind in this class. Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman sat by each other in nearly the same order they did when they were in third and fourth grade, and Garrison stood in front of the class teaching about current important issues. Sometimes, Stan felt like he was back in third grade.

"So, you see, the reason the Britney Spears episode of Glee was so successful was because…" Garrison explained.

Yep. Some things never change.

Stan listened with mild interest (he did mildly enjoy Glee, after all), when a small, folded paper fell onto his desk. He looked at it curiously, and glanced around before deciding to pick it up.

'Hey Stan. It's from Wendy. Can I talk to you after school?'

Stan blinked. He glanced at Wendy, who was looking at him with a pleading look. He chewed his lip; she looked really desperate. He poked Kyle, throwing him the note, as Wendy looked on with anxious eyes. Kyle picked it up, read it, looked at Wendy with a raised eyebrow, and shrugged. He handed it back discreetly, and nodded. Stan smiled at him, and nodded at Wendy, who sighed in relief.

All the while, none of them noticed the narrowed eyes of Eric Cartman glaring at them.

* * *

"What the fuck did Wendy send you?" Cartman asked immediately after class let out.

"She wanted to talk with me after school. I don't know what about," Stan replied.

"I swear to God, Stan, if you get Wendy to fall back in love with your faggy ass, I'll destroy your nuts!"

Stan rolled his eyes, unsure if he should take this as further proof that Cartman did indeed like Wendy. He shrugged, "I promise I won't. I'm a fag, remember?"

Cartman seemed unsatisfied with this answer, but conceded. He walked along side Stan in silence, contemplating how to get his plan underway. He only had a week, after all.

Outside, the two met Kenny, who was attempting to kiss Butters. Stan yanked Kenny away, with Kenny shrieking indignantly, and walked to the back of the school, where Wendy stood waiting.

"Wendy!" Stan called, and smiled as she turned around.

Wendy smiled back at Stan. Wendy's long black hair waved behind her, reaching the small of her back. Wendy's picture perfect smile was always something that made Stan wonder just how gay he was, but then he'd remember Kyle's smile. Her big, dark eyes were stormy and beautiful, and her face was flawless. While not as big as Bebe's, Wendy's chest did indeed grow over the years, and her slim build was just as alluring. Wendy took up boxing, and one could see the small, yet attractive muscles she had developed in her arms and legs.

Wendy's short, frilly skirt reached about mid-thigh, and her purple parka clung close to her. She silently waited for Stan's approach, and pulled up her tall socks a little higher, warding her legs off from the cold.

"Hey, Stan," she greeted in her high, soft voice, "How are you doing?"

Stan smiled as best he could. Their last break up had been about a year ago, after which he discovered why he could never keep a relationship with her. They hadn't talked since.

"F-Fine," he replied.

"Uhm," she mumbled, looking at the two boys that flanked Stan, "I need to talk to you alone."

Stan looked at Kenny, who nodded and dragged Cartman away. Stan turned to look at Wendy again, whose eyes had been directed to her shoes.

"S-Stan…" she sighed heavily, "I really don't even know why I asked you out here."

"What?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"I just needed to talk to you, but…I don't know how to do it, or what to say."

"Well…just start talking to me. About anything."

Wendy looked at Stan, and couldn't help smiling. His eyes were bright and honest; he would never hurt her they way she hurt him. He didn't have it in him. She sighed, staring into his eyes.

They really were breathtaking.

"Well, I mean, Token and I broke up. I'm not too sad about it. I don't think we're really meant to be; not that I'm expecting to fall in love with someone from here. It's not happening," she chuckled.

Stan shrugged, smiling, "Maybe you will find someone here that's just right for you." '_Like Cartman_.'

"Maybe," she smiled again, "And, I don't know. I just wanted to square away with you first."

"Square with me?" he frowned, "What about?"

"I feel terrible about the way I've treated you over the years."

Stan laughed, "Don't be so dramatic, Wendy. You didn't do anything to me. Break ups happen. We move on. That's it."

Wendy smiled more, "Thanks, Stan. If you ever need me, I'll be here for you, okay?"

Stan smiled, and they hugged. He grinned, feeling the door on their mutual pain finally close. Closure, obviously, felt awesome.

"I'm glad we can be friends, Wendy," he said, "And, I actually do need your help with something."

"What's that, Stan?"

"Well, does Bebe drink?"

"Copious amounts, yes."

"Does she talk a lot when she's drunk?"

"To the point that I wish I were deaf or she were mute."

"Does she talk about…Kyle?"

Wendy raised a suspicious eyebrow, "Where is this going, Stan?"

Stan sighed, and looked around, "Come with us. We're going to my place to plan a party. I'll explain everything there."

"Okay," she agreed, and started moving.

"Wait," he said, and waited for her to turn. "Do you have the original script we'll be reading for the play? Like, the one we'll definitely be performing?" He hoped Wendy's streak of being an over-achiever would come through.

"Yeah, of course."

"And, can you make alterations to it?"

"Yeeeeaaah?"

"Can you get it?"

"Why?"

"I'll explain later; just trust me, please."

Wendy looked at him for a long while. Her eyes met his, and she saw the desperation in them—the same sort of desperation she felt not too long ago. There was obviously something he really needed help with, and if she could help…

"Sure, Stan. I'll trust you."

Stan smiled widely and hugged the girl tightly. "Thank you so much, Wendy."

Wendy paused for a second, eyes wide, then she relaxed and hugged him back. It felt good to be in his arms again, but she refused to go back into that routine. She knew there was nothing more than friendship between her and Stan, and she wasn't going to be distressed to be with someone. She felt the relief in his sigh as he let her go, and she frowned, realizing that—whatever this was—it was really starting to get to Stan. As she walked to get the alpha script, she decided to make a vow to herself that would make up for all the times he helped and stood up to her.

She would protect Stan.

* * *

"Hello, Mrs. Testaburger? Is Wendy there?" Bebe asked into the phone.

"No, sweetie. She just called and said she was going to Stan's house with Cartman and Kenny," Mrs. Testaburger replied.

"Oh, okay. Thank you." Bebe hung up the phone, frowning. Was Wendy thinking of getting back with Stan?

"Well?" Kyle asked, sitting on the couch beside her.

"No. Wendy is with Stan, Kenny, and Cartman."

"What?" Kyle sat up, frowning. Stan was hanging out with _Wendy_ over him? He sighed, and slouched back into the couch. Bebe also frowned, sitting closer beside him. "Oh, Kyle, don't be mad. Maybe they're just making up."

"It's been a year, Bebe. They're not going to make up." Kyle scowled.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, yes I do. Because I know my best friend, and this time, something happened that made him completely forget he loved Wendy. Like, he fell in love with someone else. I don't know why he just doesn't go make that girl fall in love with him," he sighed a little, turning away from Bebe, "He could get anyone entranced with his eyes."

He saw Bebe's head drop and her shoulders sag out of the corner of his eyes, and he turned to her. "And I'm doing an amazing job of convincing you I'm straight, aren't I?"

The blond smiled minutely, and her eyes met his. They kissed briefly, "It's cool. After all, you guys are best friends, right? You're obviously going to be gay for each other…in the bro sense."

Kyle smiled, pecking her lightly. "Glad you understand."

* * *

Stan, Kenny, Cartman, and Wendy all sat in Stan's room. Wendy waited impatiently to hear what exactly Stan had to talk to her about.

Said boy sighed, looked at Kenny for mild support and ignored Cartman's glare, then turned to the black haired girl on his floor. "So, it's like this," he began, "Remember when we broke up?"

Wendy nodded.

"_Stan? Stan!" Wendy called, frowning at her boyfriend. He looked at her, befuddled, before shaking his head._

"_Yeah, I'm here. What?"_

"_Why do you keep staring at Kyle?"_

_Stan frowned at her. "I don't know."_

"_Well, stop it. One would think you're in love with him."_

_At that moment, Stan's eyes widened, and he let out a ragged breath._

"_Stan?" Wendy asked again, worried this time. "Stan, are you okay?"_

"_I'm wonderful, Wendy," he replied, voice low, "But I need to break up with you."_

"_W-What?" Stan had never broken up with her—she was always the one who did._

"_It's over, Wendy. We need to break up. I'm sorry."_

"You were right, that day," Stan said, and left the idea hanging. Wendy briefly thought it over before blushing. With an 'oh!', she covered her mouth.

"I…I see," she replied.

"Yeah, I'm in love with Kyle. And I need your help."

Stan explained how he came to love Kyle and when exactly he had found out. He told her about Bebe and how she broke up with Kyle because of him. He told her how much he _hated_ that he helped them get back together. Stan told her about all the anguish he felt, and how he could no longer hold it in. He told her about Flora and all her advice. Once done, Cartman took his turn to talk about the plan he was concocting with the play, and how they needed that she let them alter the play. Cartman told her about their plan to get Kyle and Bebe drunk and give Kyle AIDS. Kenny immediately punched Cartman and corrected him, stating that they just wanted to break the two up.

"Wow. So, I turned you gay?" Wendy asked, wincing.

"Of course not, Wendy! Stan was already a fag," Cartman sneered. Wendy smiled minutely, unsure if that was a compliment or insult.

Stan rolled his eyes, "Much as I hate to agree, he's right. I've always loved Kyle. You just helped me realize it when you said that."

"Aren't you worried it'll ruin your friendship, though?" she asked.

"A little, but I don't want to live in quiet desperation hoping that one day he'll be gay all on his own and want me. I want him to know now. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work. We remain friends. But if there's a chance, then I'm going to take it."

"How do you know there's a chance?"

"Because we're best friends." Stan replied.

"Because they're fags." Cartman added.

"Because they slept together in the same bed naked after strip poker and Kyle didn't mind," Kenny helpfully supplied, and was probably the most convincing argument.

Wendy nodded, contemplating. "All right, when's this party?"

"In a week. Right after casting," Cartman responded.

Wendy nodded, then smirked as she grabbed a red pen and the alpha script.

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

* * *

Gotta love the Hush Sound.


	5. Quasi Date

Fucking proofreading.

Also, thanks for the reviews, guys! I'm not one to show super emotion, and I'm really cynical, but I don't want you guys to think that I don't appreciate all your comments. It really makes my day. Literally, after I read a review, I open up my document and keep on writing. Thanks so much, guys. You really make my day. :)

* * *

"Because they slept together in the same bed naked after strip poker and Kyle didn't mind," Kenny helpfully supplied, and was probably the most convincing argument.

Wendy nodded, contemplating. "All right, when's this party?"

"In a week. Right after casting," Cartman responded.

Wendy nodded, then smirked as she grabbed a red pen and the alpha script.

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

* * *

After a successful rewriting of the play and walking Wendy to her place, Stan practically skipped back home, grinning all the way. It seemed the fates were in his favor—all that needed to happen was that Kyle was secretly in love with Stan and realized it now so they could drop out of this gay play, screw each other, and play video games.

"Hey, fag," he heard, and turned, his grin widening. Kyle stood on his porch, smirking at Stan with an eyebrow raised.

'_That is the sexiest fucking eyebrow in the world.'_

Suddenly, Kyle stopped smirking and his eyebrows furrowed, "What?"

"What?" Stan asked.

"I asked you what. What did you just say?"

"Oh. Did I say it out loud?"

"Yeah, something about my eyebrow…?"

"About it being sexy?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, it is."

Kyle blinked, then laughed and walked over to pat his friend on his shoulder. "You're hilarious, Stan."

Stan forced a grin and laughed along with him, "Oh yeah, a regular comedian."

"Where were you skipping to?"

"Oh, home. I just walked Wendy back home."

Kyle frowned minutely, "You're skipping from Wendy's? Are you two back together?"

"What? No. Cartman and Kenny were there with me."

"Kenny and _Cartman_?"

Stan nodded, bemused at the expression on the Jew's face. "What?"

"You're hanging out with Wendy, and even Cartman, but not me?" Kyle's face was hurt.

"Wha—? Wait, Kyle, you don't understand."

"Understand what?" Kyle demanded, "That my so-called super best friend is willing to drag me into some stupid play, but would rather hang out with some racist bigot than with me?"

Stan was about to try to explain, but then he stopped. "Kyle?"

"What?" he snapped.

"A…Are you jealous?"

"….What? Dude, don't even. That's fucking ridiculous."

"You're fucking jealous, dude," Stan grinned.

"Fuck you, asshole," Kyle pouted, and turned away from Stan.

Stan laughed and hugged him from behind, resting his head on Kyle's shoulder. "Dude, don't be jealous. You know you're always number one in my book, baby."

"Oh, fuck off, Stan," Kyle growled.

"Seriously dude," Stan affirmed, and tightened his hold on the redhead, lest he try to wiggle out, "Wendy is Bebe's best friend, right?"

"Yeah, so?" Kyle spat, then his eyes widened in realization, "Oh. You were planning my anniversary party with her…because she's Bebe's best friend."

Stan thanked God for giving him enough brain power to think up a _second_ lie. He was obviously on a roll.

"Of course, dude."

"Well, then, why did she want to talk to you?" Kyle frowned.

Stan shrugged, scooting closer to Kyle in order to be more comfortable, "Just to apologize to me for 'hurting me'."

"But…she didn't hurt you."

"Yeah, well, nice gesture still. I guess she's been feeling guilty for a while. Had I known, I would've told her straight up that there was nothing to forgive."

Kyle nodded, leaning back into Stan. "Huh. So, afterwards?"

"Well, Kenny, Cartman, and I had already decided to plan your anniversary party today; I figured I could invite Wendy and make this for Bebe, too, since she's kind of part of the reason you're having an anniversary in the first place."

Kyle laughed and nodded. "Right, right. All right." The Jew stood up, pulling himself from Stan's hold and turned, smiling. "I'm sorry I got so jealous, bro. It's just been a while since we hung out, and I don't want us to drift apart, you know?"

Stan nodded, patting him on the shoulder firmly. "We're never gonna drift, man. We'll be apart for a while, sure. But hey, things come full circle; we'll end up together in the end, every time," he shrugged.

Kyle nodded and chuckled, "We have the _gayest_ conversations."

Stan grinned, "It's a bro thing. Besides, you're from Jersey, and everyone knows guidos are gay."

Kyle punched his arm, laughing, "Fuck you, man."

"Gladly. When and where?"

Kyle shook his head. "I better get back inside. I was doing homework when I saw your gay ass skipping."

"I was not skipping."

"Okay. Hopping around in a homosexual manner."

Stan laughed, and stuck his tongue out at Kyle. The latter grinned and turned, walking back into his house. Stan watched him go, smiling, then did an over-exaggerated skip towards his house, knowing Kyle was watching.

Indeed, the Jew was watching, and laughed to himself as he saw Stan go. He sighed once the other teen was out of sight, and walked upstairs. Once closed, he leaned against the door, frowning. He felt cold, for some odd reason; especially since, in Stan's arms, he felt really warm and comfortable. He was also quite perplexed as to why he was so jealous—granted, it made sense to be a little sad your best friend was hanging out with an asshole like Cartman, but why be jealous of _Wendy_? He sighed and shrugged it off—Kyle decided he was just scared he didn't know his friend as well as he thought he did; but Stan didn't get with Wendy, so Kyle did know the other well.

Right.

'_Wait…_'

Kyle blinked, shaking his head. '_Since when do I let Stan hold me like that? As if I was his fucking g—'_

Kyle stopped the thought there and laughed to himself meekly. That was no way to think of his and Stan's relationsh—friendship. Broship.

Yeah. Right.

"Homework," he said to himself firmly, "Calculus. Do it. Now." He sat down, wheeled his chair closer to his desk, and proceeded to think about how warm he felt in Stan's arms.

He never did get around to doing calculus homework.

* * *

"Morning, Flora," Stan said as he entered the flower shop the next morning.

Flora turned and smiled at Stan, "Morning, Stan. How's it goin'?"

"Well, we finished the new play and I'm hanging out with Kyle today."

"Good. What are you doing?"

"Whatever he wants," Stan grinned, "And I'm gonna pay for everything. It'll be like a quasi date."

Flora chuckled, "Speaking of, I've seen Kyle walking around. He came in here to buy flowers for his mom one day." She whistled, "Boy did he get hot."

"Tell me about it."

"Where does he shop?"

"I think he only goes to H&M. He's such a weird hipster."

"Ouch," she replied, "That's so freaking expensive…..oh!"

Stan raised an eyebrow, "Yes?"

"Have you noticed if Kyle mixes his outfits, but generally wears the same thing?"

"Well, yeah, sort of."

Flora grinned. "I hope you have a lot of money."

His eyebrows furrowed.

"Cause I know exactly what you should do for your quasi date—especially since he's such a hipster."

"What?"

"Take him shopping!"

Stan gave her a deadpan look.

"What?"

"Take him shopping."

"But…that's so fucking gay."

"You're fucking gay, so it doesn't matter."

"Yeah, but that's _really_ gay."

"Well, he'll love you for it."

"…Well, it's expensive. I can't afford that."

"Who says you have to go to H&M? There are plenty of indie stores he probably doesn't know about that are way cheaper. Take him there, buy him what he wants, and he'll love you."

"You think it'll work?"

"Absolutely!"

"Where should I take him?"

"It's kind of main-stream, so he might dislike it at first, but Plato's closet is a good place to go to find some rare gems. Always Urban just opened a store in the mall, and they have really cheap stuff that's made by indie designers. Go to Denver with him, and take him to a thrift store. Really high class thrift stores always have the best clothes, and it'll be less than three dollars. Also, outlet malls. He'll hate that, too, but he'll find _something_."

"How much do you think I should invest for this?"

"At least 300 dollars."

"What?"

"Hey, even cheap clothes add up."

"Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?"

"Uh, a job?"

"But our quasi date is today!"

"Oh, right. Hmm…." Flora put her hand to her chin thoughtfully, and looked outside the window. She grinned.

Outside, Tom Cruise was stomping around, demanding that he was going to sue South Park again if those damn kids didn't stop making fun of him. He wasn't gay, dammit!

"I know how."

* * *

"Bebe, about our date today…" Kyle began when he met her at his locker.

Bebe looked at him suspiciously, putting the books she was holding on the floor. "Yeeees?"

"Can we reschedule?"

Bebe huffed. "Kyle, I wish you would've let me know earlier. I'm not free for the next few nights, and this is one of the last showings they'll have."

"I know, but…Stan asked me if I wanted to hang out with him."

The blonde's eyes widened, and she smiled. "In that case, sure. We can just rent that movie when it comes out."

Kyle smiled, giving her a quick kiss. "Thanks. I knew you'd understand."

Bebe nodded and hugged him, sighing when his arms wrapped around her. Kyle, however, frowned into Bebe's hair.

Bebe's arms weren't as warm as Stan's.

* * *

In the sort of amazing gift of God that only the South Park children have, Stan managed to convince Tom Cruise he was the reincarnation of Hubbard again, convinced him he was depressed, and the only way to cure his depression was to give him 700 dollars, and to hide in Craig's closet. Tom Cruise, of course, did just that.

School passed normally, and Stan stood by the flag pole, marveling at how South Park High looked exactly the same as South Park Elementary. As he waited, Mr. Garrison passed by him and stopped.

"Stan, can I ask you something?" he said.

Stan, taken aback, nodded.

"Are you _finally_ out of the closet?"

Stan sputtered and stood straight, "What?"

"Well, it's just that…you're _so gay_, and it's unhealthy for you to stay in the closet for such a long time. I was just making sure that you were out already."

Stan was about to answer, but he looked over Garrison's shoulder and saw a certain Jew incoming. He sighed, "Mr. Garrison, I will tell you everything later, just please leave and don't ruin my quasi date with Kyle!"

Garrison turned, seeing Kyle smile at Stan (and raise a brow at him) and shrugged. "All right then, Stan. I'll see you in class."

Kyle reached Stan and smiled at him, "Hey, dude. What was that about?"

"N-Nothing," Stan muttered.

Kyle raised an eyebrow again, "Kay. What are we doing today, then?"

"Glad you asked. I have a few things in mind. But first, there's something I'd really like to do…especially with you."

Kyle's smile faded, perplexed by Stan's change in tone. He shrugged, got into Stan's car, and they drove in silence to the cemetery.

* * *

"Here?" Kyle asked, a small frown on his face. He and Stan stood before Chef's barren grave. The headstone had withered a little, though the letters were still legible.

"Yeah, here." Stan replied, and took out the chrysanthemums he bought from Flora in his car, putting them on Chef's grave. "I know we don't talk about it much, but I really miss Chef."

Kyle let a sad frown show, "I miss him too, Stan. I really wish that damn Adventure Club hadn't taken him."

Stan sighed, "And I really wish we didn't have to battle Darth Chef on your birthday. I know you didn't mean to..." he hesitated. "I know you didn't mean to kill him, but it was the only way to save him."

Kyle nodded, and Stan wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders. Kyle leaned his head on Stan's chest, sighing. "I just wish it didn't have to come to that."

"He was the only sensible adult in the whole town." Stan stated.

"He was the only person who could cook."

"He was the only one who hated Cartman as much as we did."

"He was the only one who actually had a set of morals."

"He was the only one who gave us advice."

"I wish he was still here to do that," Kyle muttered.

Stan nodded, frowning. Flora was nice, but it would've been great to get some advice from Chef on how to win Kyle over.

"So, did we come here just to put flowers on his grave?" Kyle asked.

"No." Stan replied, "We came to say hello."

"Hello?"

"Yeah…Hey, Chef."

Kyle smiled minutely, and Stan wrapped his arm tighter around the Jew. "Hey, Chef," Kyle said.

They paused, not expecting to hear anything, but waited nonetheless.

"Bad," Stan finally said, and Kyle looked up at Stan.

"Why bad?" Kyle asked.

"Cause you're not here, Chef."

Kyle nodded, looking back at the grave. "We miss you."

They stood there, Stan holding onto Kyle for a while, before Stan sighed and let him go.

"Let's go, Kyle."

_Take care, children_.

Stan and Kyle paused, looking around, then looked at each other and smiled.

"Bye, Chef," they said in unison, and walked back into Stan's car, driving off.

_And Stan, stop being a pussy and tell Kyle you like him already._

But they were too far to hear.(i)

* * *

Kyle stared out the window as he and Stan drove in silence. For a long while, he had been secretly dealing with the guilt of having killed Chef during their battle. He smiled a little, glad to see how well Stan knew him.

"So, where are we going now?" he asked.

Stan grinned, glancing at Kyle, "We're going shopping."

"Shopping?" Kyle asked, and perked up, "But…I thought you hated shopping."

"Well, we're not shopping for me."

Kyle's grin widened, and then immediately turned to a frown, "Dude, I only have enough with me for a movie and some food."

"Who said you're paying for anything? Everything is on me."

Kyle looked at him, dumbfounded. "What?"

"I'm paying for everything."

"B-But how can you afford that?"

"Don't worry, I've got you covered; and before you ask, no, I'm not in the tooth fairy mafia again."

Kyle blinked. "Why?"

"Cause you're my best friend and you deserve to look hotter than you already do."

Kyle laughed, "Oh, honey, you shouldn't have."

Stan grinned, "Nothing but the best for my babe."

Kyle laughed harder, and Stan grinned, happy to see that the new, _new_ kidney they implanted in Kyle didn't make milk come out of his nose. "Thanks, man. You know this officially makes us gay, though, right?"

"Absolutely. What else are bro-dates for?" Kyle smiled at him, and leaned over, kissing his cheek.

Stan flushed a heavy red, glancing at Kyle. "What was that for?"

"For being an awesome friend. Also, it's just begun, but this may be the best bro-date I've ever been on."

Stan smiled proudly, and parked in the lot of Always Urban, grinning.

"We'll hit up H&M later. For now, you need to check out other indie outlets."

* * *

Despite loathing shopping with an unholy passion, Stan had to admit he enjoyed himself. It was endlessly satisfying to see how much Kyle was relishing their quasi date. He may not have been metro-sexual, but Kyle sure could shop. And Stan didn't mind following him around with an overly-filled cart, or hogging the dressing rooms with Kyle, or trying on all the clothes Kyle insisted he put on. Hell, Kyle even convinced Stan to buy some clothes for himself. Kyle made it a point to look better with each outfit he tried on, and Stan had to excuse himself to the bathroom quite a few times. Kyle continued to think it was a joke, and Stan wasn't about to correct him.

After buying all the clothes Kyle wanted—they even drove to Denver as Flora had suggested—Kyle took Stan to a hair cuttery, where Kyle got his hair cut. At first, Stan was a bit apprehensive; then Kyle came out of the salon with the world's most adorable Jew-fro, and Stan had to excuse himself to the bathroom.

Kyle thought the joke was getting old, but he wasn't going to stop whatever made Stan happy, even if it was jizz jokes.

After Stan packed up all the shoes and accessories Kyle had bought in the car, he drove Kyle to a super market. There, the two bought a variety of kosher foods, dumplings, stir fry ingredients, and Celtic dish recipe items. Kyle called home quickly, happy to see no one was there, and they took their large load to the Brofloski home.

"Dude, I can't believe we spent all that money in one day," Kyle laughed, grabbing the food bags and taking them to his room.

"I can't believe any of this is going to fit in your closet, bro," Stan replied, and carried the made-for-college refrigerator behind Kyle.

"You really didn't have to buy me my own fridge."

"Getting you ready for college."

"And you didn't have to buy me food for my fridge."

"Getting you ready to leave your family."

Kyle laughed, and thanked him.

It took half an hour, and it was almost 9 pm, but the boys got all the food and clothes in, as well as organizing it. Kyle had taken to cooking some steak for the two of them, and wore a "Kiss the Cook" pink apron Stan had insisted on getting for him.

"I wonder what your mom will say when she sees all this stuff."

"She's going to make me get a job just to pay you back, bro. And even if she doesn't force me, I think I'll have to do it myself."

Stan frowned. "I _told_ you, Kyle; it's a gift from me to you."

"At least tell me how you got the money."

"I swindled it from Tom Cruise."

"Oh. Well, in that case, I owe you shit."

Stan laughed, "Glad we agree."

"Steak's on," Kyle announced, putting the pieces of steak on two plates, then putting the rice and vegetables he cooked beside each piece of meat.

"Thank you, honey," Stan cooed, pursing his lips at Kyle.

Kyle laughed, shoving Stan's face away and putting the other boy's plate before him. "There's a line between bros and gay, dude."

"Hardly," Stan retorted, smiling at the Jew as he sat down with his own plate. They ate in brief silence before Stan spoke again. "Hey, bro. I'll be Capulet and you be Montague."

"What? I thought you wanted to be Romeo."

"Yeah, but Wendy will definitely be Juliet, and I don't wanna give her hope."

Kyle nodded, understanding. "Okay, if that's what you want. But we'll be enemies."

Stan shrugged, "I guess so. But hey, we can be lame about it."

Kyle laughed, nodding his head. "All right, then."

Stan smiled, happy to see the plan was working perfectly.

"So…" Kyle began.

Stan looked up at him questioningly.

"Thanks."

"For?"

"For this…bro-date thing. It was…nice." Kyle smiled. The Jew stood, taking their emptied plates and putting them in the sink. He washed the dishes thoroughly.

"Oh." Stan smiled and stood, hugging Kyle from behind, much like he did the day before. Kyle, again, made no move to stop him. "You're welcome."

Kyle laughed, drying off the last of the dishes. "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say this was more of a date-date then a bro-date."

Stan chuckled, hoping his nervousness wasn't showing. "Oh? Why do you say that?"

"Well, for one, we did everything I wanted to do and ate what I wanted to eat. You bought everything like a true gentleman, and I get the honor of coming home and cooking to you. Also, Stan, I caught you staring at my ass," he responded, laughing.

Stan sighed dramatically, "Damn! I was hoping you wouldn't notice!"

Kyle laughed a little more, then looked at Stan over his shoulder. "Seriously, Stan. What is it between us that makes it so that we can do these totally gay things with each other, but still be straight?"

Briefly, Stan thought about admitting that he was gay. He thought about throwing the plan to the wind and just telling Kyle. But the Jew's big, sparkling, green eyes were staring at him in wonder and trust—as if he really knew the answer—and there was nothing in the world that was going to make him lose that.

So instead, Stan smiled his most debonair smile, and replied, "We've known each other since birth, your girlfriend doesn't put out, and I don't have one anymore. We've unconsciously decided to let out our sexual frustrations on each other."

Kyle laughed again, "Asshole."

"I really don't know, Kyle. I guess because we're super best bro friends."

"When did we add the bro?" Kyle smirked.

"Exactly two years, eight days, fourteen hours, thirty-two minutes, and…ten seconds ago."

Kyle shook his head, smiling, "If that is a real number, I'm going to start doubting your sexuality."

Stan grinned, hugging the Jew closer, "Shouldn't you be doubting it right about now?"

The Jew laughed again, but the laugh died slowly. He stared into the other's eyes and, though Stan was still smiling, there was something about the look in Stan's eyes that was telling the Jew that—maybe—Stan wasn't kidding this time.

"We're home Bubbi!"

Kyle snapped out of his small trance, and looked at Stan, who was still holding him. "Let go, Stan."

"But how will your mom know that we're planning the wedding?" Stan grinned, but let the other out of his arms.

"What wedding, Stan?" Sheila asked, walking into the kitchen.

Kyle snickered, "Don't worry about it mom. Stan's just being dumb."

Stan laughed and hit Kyle gently, "Screw you, man."

Sheila shrugged and smiled, "If you boys say so. Oh! And thanks for cleaning up the dishes, Bubbi."

"No problem, mom."

"Stan, are you staying over tonight?"

It wasn't unusual for Stan to stay on a weeknight. He kept an extra toothbrush, clothes, towel, video games, and other essentials at Kyle's house in the very usual chance that he slept over.

"Sure he is, mom," Kyle replied.

Stan smiled at him, wrapping an arm around Kyle in a brotherly way, "He can't resist me, Ms. Brofloski. One day I'll be calling you mom."

Gerald had just walked in, and promptly fainted.

Stan, Kyle, and Sheila stared at Gerald and stood unmoving.

"Boys, will you help me take Gerald upstairs?"

"Yes, mom."

"Yes, Ms. Brofloski."

Kyle sighed, grabbing the bags his father had clutched in his hands, and wrenched them out. "I believe carrying the cadaver is a man's job. Go for it, Stan." Kyle grinned and walked upstairs with the bags.

Stan chuckled, and picked up Gerald with little difficulty. He began the march upstairs when Sheila called to him.

"Stan?"

Stan looked over his shoulder. "Yes?"

"I'm looking forward to that day," she replied, and Stan couldn't tell if she was joking or not.

* * *

(i) Let me explain the Chef scene. Chef was one of my favorite characters, but I wasn't very well versed in South Park. I became a hardcore fan later in the series, when Chef was already gone, but I'd seen some episodes before his death. Afterwards, I became aware that Chef had died, and it was really saddening. Of course, I heard how Hayes did not like the Scientology episode, and how he quit. And then, Hayes, unfortunately, passed away. I have since refused to watch the episode where Chef dies and becomes Darth Chef. This is a tribute to him and to the Chef character—the original Chef character—a character who meant a lot to the South Park children, because he was level headed more so than their parents, and because he explained things to them that no one else would. In a sense, he was their real teacher, and I think that says something about society. Someone has to teach—we can't just pawn off the responsibility to someone else, and this is what Chef constantly stressed. So, RIP, Chef and Isaac Hayes. Both were great people, fictional or otherwise.


	6. Cheated On Me

Sorry. I've been in a rut. Thanks, though.

Here's your sign.

* * *

"One day I'll be calling you mom."

Gerald had just walked in, and promptly fainted.

Stan, Kyle, and Sheila stared at Gerald and stood unmoving.

"Boys, will you help me take Gerald upstairs?"

"Yes, mom."

"Yes, Ms. Brofloski."

Kyle sighed, grabbing the bags his father had clutched in his hands, and wrenched them out. "I believe carrying the cadaver is a man's job. Go for it, Stan." Kyle grinned and walked upstairs with the bags.

Stan chuckled, and picked up Gerald with little difficulty. He began the march upstairs when Sheila called to him.

"Stan?"

Stan looked over his shoulder. "Yes?"

"I'm looking forward to that day," she replied, and Stan couldn't tell if she was joking or not.

* * *

Stan yawned, and tried to stretch his arms over his head, but felt a weight on his left side. He opened his eyes and smiled at Kyle, who managed to snuggle in close to Stan. The raven-haired boy always thought Kyle was attractive, but the Jew was especially adorable when he was asleep. He glanced at the clock and smiled.

"Pssst. Kyyyyyyyle. Kyle. C'moooon. Wake uuuuup," he whispered. He frowned shortly. It seemed the Jew was in a really deep sleep.

His eyes automatically fell to the red-head's lips. Unconsciously, he licked his own lips and wrapped his arm around Kyle, bringing him closer. Stan bit his lip, debating whether or not to kiss him. It wasn't like Kyle would know. He was asleep. And Stan was sort of tired of _imagining_ the kisses. He wondered if Kyle's lips were soft or if they were rough or if they tasted like chocolate or strawberries.

He decided to take the chance and leaned in, his eyes locked on Kyle's closed lids. His lips gently touched the Jew's, and he marveled at how soft they were. His tongue traveled over the others' lips, and gently suckled Kyle's bottom lip. He pulled away quickly, and observed. The Jew was still asleep and his breathing was deep. Stan bit his lip again, then dove in for another kiss, moving his lips against the Jew's nigh still lips. Then, Stan heard a light moan. He separated himself from the Jew and gasped.

Kyle's eyes were open.

They were half lidded, and they weren't their usual clear green, but they were open. Stan held his breath, hoping that God would give him one more free card so he could lie his way out of this. Instead, Kyle yawned and closed his eyes again, snuggling in closer to Stan.

Stan let out the breath he was holding, and lay back down. He swallowed the lump that developed in his throat, got up quietly, and went to the bathroom, thanking the powers that be.

As soon as the door shut, Kyle's eyes fluttered open, and the Jew yawned. He shook his head, before his eyes opened wide and a hand flew to his lips as he sat up. Did Stan…? No. Stan wasn't in the bed right then, so it must have been a dream. Kyle frowned.

But why would he dream of Stan kissing him like that?

* * *

The morning went over well and it made Stan happy to see Kyle was enjoying himself. It was relieving to see that Kyle seemed to have no recollection of what happened that morning. Stan regretted that they couldn't play strip poker again, but he imagined that after all the passes he'd made that day, it probably wasn't best to push it. So, Stan drove the Jew to school, listening to Kyle talk about class and smiled to himself, trying not to obsess over how _adorable_ he looked with glasses on.

"Hey, Kyle?" he interrupted.

"Yes?"

"Why did you kiss my cheek yesterday?"

Kyle blinked, "Because, obviously, you should get something for that amazing first date, but I don't put out on the first night."

Stan laughed. "In that case, can I kiss you?"

Kyle flushed a deep red and coughed. "What?"

Stan parked the car expertly and shifted gears, then looked at the Jew. "Can I kiss you again? Like, on the cheek? Like I used to."

Kyle's eyes widened minutely, "Oh! That's what you…I mean, dude, no! Bebe will see."

Stan pouted. "Asshole. How am I supposed to get any if you won't let me pretend I love you?"

'_A joke.'_ Kyle thought, _'Of course he's joking.'_

Kyle laughed, shaking his head. "You're _dumb_."

Stan got out of the car, the Jew following suit quickly, and locked the door. "I'm just asking questions."

"Oh, don't even."

Stan chuckled, walking beside Kyle into the school. They continued to talk about video games up until their locker, where Bebe stood waiting.

"Hey. Have a nice date?" she smiled.

"You know it. Stan sure knows how to treat a woman," Kyle winked.

Stan laughed, "Oh, no doubt."

Bebe giggled, running her hands through Kyle's newly short hair. Her index finger twirled around the curly bangs that partially covered the Jew's left eye, and then she playfully ruffled the mane. "You look so adorable with your hair like this."

Kyle smiled and kissed her. "Why, thank you. You look so adorable with you like this."

"And your glasses! When did you get this piece of sexy eyewear?"

"Same time I got you. Just in case you weren't in to contacts."

Bebe giggled again and Stan faked a laugh.

"Oh! Stan, weren't we supposed to plan a party or whatever?" Kyle asked, turning away from Bebe.

"Oh! Yeah. So, my parents will be gone this weekend."

"Cool. Drinks?"

"Of course. But where?"

"Scott Tenorman owns a liquor store. All we need to do is have Cartman walk in there."

"I thought Scott wasn't scared of him once he told Cartman he and fatass had the same dad?"

"Yeah, well, Scott got married. You can imagine what happened to his family."

"Did Cartman drink his tears again this time?"

"He has the tears in a jar. He occasionally pours them in a wine glass whenever he walks into Scott's store and drinks them. He also gets the chance to refill his jar, what with Scott crying whenever Cartman enters the store."

"God, he is one fucked up kid."

"Who?"

"Both."

"Yeah."

"Okay, well, Cartman can handle drinks," Stan affirmed.

"Food?"

"Fuck them."

"Right. When does it start?"

"Well, we'll say 9ish, so that Butters can come."

"Butters can come if it's not 9?"

"He can lie and say study group if we say 9."

"Ah, okay. Nice of you to think of Butters."

"I owe him."

"Figures."

"So, I guess we're done?"

"Guest list?"

"Whoever."

"Clean-up crew?"

"Kenny."

"_Now_ we're done."

Stan grinned. Bebe shook her head, laughing.

"You guys did that so quickly."

Kyle shrugged. "We're bros. That's how it works. Oh, so, Stan and I are gonna try for the play," Kyle began, "He's Capulet and I'm Montague."

Bebe frowned, "Are you sure?"

Kyle didn't like that tone. "What? What's wrong with that?"

Bebe flushed a little and glanced away, "I mean, I knew you were best friends, but I didn't think you were comfortable enough with each other to do this."

"Do what?" Kyle pressed as Stan looked on silently.

"I should've known after the strip poker thing…"

"What is it, Bebe?"

"Well, Capulet and Montague have a whole new back story…."

"What the fuck is it, already?" Kyle growled. He never was one to contain his temper very much.

Bebe bit her lip gently and handed him the new script that, apparently, Wendy wasted no time remaking. Kyle snatched it and read it over quickly, stopping momentarily to push his glasses up. Stan always enjoyed watching Kyle's face, but this time was just priceless. In the span of 30 seconds—because Kyle _was_ a fast reader—Kyle's expressions varied from annoyed to curious to dread to horror to anger and then to straight-pissed-right-the-fuck-off.

"_WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?"_ Stan tried to hold in a laugh as his Kyle's face turned red, "Stan! Did you know about this shit?"

"N-no, of course not!" Stan replied.

"_FUCKING LIAR!"_

"Oh, all right, I'm lying! I did know."

"Then why the _fuck_ would you make me promise to be Montague?"

"C'mon, dude! I couldn't possibly make out with any guy in school, and I figured if I had to make out with anyone, it might as well be you!"

"What the fuck? I can be Mercutio and you can be Romeo! We can be old-school bros and _not fucking make out!_"

"I-I didn't want to make out with Wendy!"

"_Then you could be fucking Paris, and we'd still be fucking lame enemies, INSTEAD OF FUCKING MAKING OUT!_"

Stan bit his lip, and couldn't argue further. There really was no reason for Kyle to want to be Montague, after all—other than Stan wanting to make out with him. But Stan couldn't tell the red-head that; it might ruin his friendship. And how would he explain this to Cartman? To be fair, it wouldn't really affect Stan. But Stan _was_ a better actor, he'd definitely end up with Romeo if he didn't pick something else—the teacher wouldn't settle for Stan getting less than some major role.

Paris didn't count as a major role. Paris was gay.

Stan sighed. What could he say at this point?

"What's going on?" Kenny asked, grinning as he pat Stan's ass. He prepared to run away, but Stan didn't try to hit him. At that point, Kyle frowned; Stan never let a physical pass like that go.

"Stan?" he asked, "You okay?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," Stan muttered, opened their locker, grabbed his books and walked to his class. Kyle, Bebe, and Kenny watched him go. Bebe frowned.

"I wonder what's wrong."

"I…I wish I knew, Bebe," Kyle sighed, a sad frown on his face. "Did I hurt his feelings or something?"

Kenny shook his head. Of course he'd have to lie their way out of this; heshould get a degree in pathological lying. Or be a politician. "Kyle, we need to talk. C'mon. Walk with me. Bebe, this conversation isn't for you."

Bebe's eyes widened and she nodded, frowning. She walked away from Kyle without kissing him, and Kyle watched her go as well.

"What the fuck?" he asked himself, "Is everyone mad at me today or something?"

Kenny smiled to himself. '_You really don't know how much everyone loves you, do you?_'

* * *

Bebe sighed, walking slowly to the other side the school. So out of it was she, she didn't even notice Wendy wave to her; she didn't notice Wendy frown; she didn't notice Wendy follow her.

However, she had to notice when Wendy tripped her.

"Dammit, Wendy!" she huffed, dusting herself off, "What is it?"

"What's wrong with you?" Wendy asked.

"Nothing," the blonde muttered.

"You realize that you're the world's _worst_ liar, right? Well, next to Stan."

Bebe sighed. "It's just…we need to go somewhere private to talk."

Wendy frowned and nodded, walking outside with Bebe. He frown deepened when she realized that Bebe was walking away from the school. Bebe never skipped school; it must be something really troubling, Wendy decided, to make Bebe act this way. They reached the park and sat on the swings, Wendy waiting for Bebe to start speaking.

"I feel like…like I'm destroying Kyle and Stan's friendship, and Kyle's going to leave me for it," she started.

Wendy sighed, "That's not true. Nothing could break those two apart. And, I mean, do you love Kyle?"

Bebe averted her eyes, "I don't know. Maybe. It could be that, maybe…one day."

"But how about now?"

"Now? I just don't want to lose him."

Wendy frowned. She looked down, kicking the ground so she could swing a little; she hated playing both sides.

"A-Are you going to Stan's party?" Wendy asked lamely.

"That? Yeah, I guess," Bebe chuckled, "They planned it in, like, five seconds."

Wendy smiled, "Further proof that you cannot separate them. Trust me, Bebe. Nothing will split them apart."

Bebe smiled and nodded. "I hope not. I really want Stan to finally accept me."

"He does."

"No, not really. He wants to, I can tell…but there's something that makes him hate me."

"I think you're paranoid," Wendy averted her eyes. Bebe did not notice, as her eyes were pointing towards the floor.

"…I hope so."

* * *

Kyle and Kenny walked outside to the tree where Stan had confessed his feelings about Kyle. Kenny smirked, deciding this was the best place to tell a lie.

"Kenny, what's going on?" Kyle asked, "Why is everyone acting strange?"

"To be fair, you're acting a little strange yourself. You're out here."

"So?"

"Alone with me."

"….I see your point."

"I knew you would."

"So, what's going on?" Kyle frowned, "You…You don't think Stan and I are drifting apart, do you?"

Kyle's look of utter desperation—the look of a lost child—wiped Kenny's smirk right off his face and all dirty thoughts out of his mind. He sighed; Kyle seemed really worried.

"No, I don't think you're drifting apart, dude. It's just…we all have this little secret we didn't want you to know."

"What's that?"

"Stan wanted to be Capulet and have you be Montague was because we were looking out for a friend."

"Just tell me, Kenny."

"Don't laugh. Don't doubt this. Promise me that. No matter what I say next, you will believe me."

Kyle raised an eyebrow but nodded.

"There are three major male roles to be played: Capulet, Montague, and Romeo. We both know that Stan is a great actor and that the teacher will make Stan play one of these roles. Stan would rather not play Romeo for two major reasons. The first is that he'd rather not kiss Wendy. The second, and most important—because, as an actor, Stan can suck up whatever he needs to and kiss Wendy—is because of Cartman."

"Cartman?" Kyle asked incredulously.

"Yeah. Cartman is in love with Wendy. To the point that he'd make you the happiest man in the world just to have Wendy. He sincerely loves her…and Stan stepped down so Cartman can be Romeo."

Kyle's jaw hung open and, to this sight, Kenny's humor was quick to come back. "I mean, I'm not against a BJ right now, but your girlfriend might get mad."

"_Kenny_."

"Right, right."

"So…Cartman loves Wendy and wants to be Romeo, but Stan is practically guaranteed. So, he steps down. But Stan can't step down to a lesser part, so he ends up having to be in a part where he has to kiss a guy."

"And, knowing that, he chose to be Capulet or Montague or whatever and he decided…"

Kyle shook his head.

"To ask his super best friend if he'd be the opposite role so Stan wouldn't have to kiss someone else."  
"To ask his super best friend if he'd be the opposite role so Stan wouldn't have to kiss someone else."

"Jinx," Kenny smiled, "You owe me a soda for saying that at the same time as me."

Kyle smiled weakly. "I feel like such a dick. Why didn't he just tell me that?"

"You know how Stan is."

"No. Apparently, I don't," Kyle frowned. "I don't know about this. I don't know why he didn't just tell me. He tells me everything."

Kenny frowned. "Kyle…he doesn't."

Kyle paused. "What?"

"He doesn't tell you everything."

Kyle's expression was broken. "H-Has he told you something he hasn't told me?"

"Well…yeah," Kenny looked away, hiding the smile on his lips.

"But…but _we're super best bro friends_! How could he do this to me?"

"Kyle, calm down. It's not like he cheated on you."

"It's _exactly_ like he cheated on me!"

"You don't own him, Kyle."

"Yes, I do! That asshole _knows_ he's _mine_!"

Kenny grinned. "I lied, Kyle. He doesn't tell me anything he doesn't tell you. The Cartman thing was our only secret, and that's because Stan doesn't tell other peoples' secrets."

Kyle only stared back at Kenny, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. What had he just said? That Stan was _his_? When did Kyle get so possessive? Who even _does_ that? Kyle assumed it made sense to be a little jealous of your best friend hanging out with others, but being jealous and _possessive_? And to _that _extent? It was as if he and Stan were in a—

Kyle shook his head, hoping the thoughts would shake out, too.

"I…I have to go find Stan," he muttered and pushed past Kenny, walking into the school.

Kenny smirked, albeit evilly. "Never mind that I'm still lying, and you don't know that he's in love with you. " Kenny turned, watching Kyle bump into the wall by the door, curse profusely, and walk through the door.

"Oh, and that you're in love with him, too."

* * *

So like…know how sometimes chapters have to end, no matter what word-count goal you set? Yeeeaaaah.

Also, unfortunately, "noirette" isn't recognized by any reputable dictionary. Urban dictionary has said so, and while the word is more exquisite and a much more lovely way to describe Stan's hair color, I won't use it until the Oxford Dictionary recognizes it as a word. I'll send a note, though, that they should. Thanks for the suggestion.


	7. Shakespeare Would Cry

"You don't own him, Kyle."

"Yes, I do! That asshole _knows_ he's _mine_!"

Kenny grinned. "I lied, Kyle. He doesn't tell me anything he doesn't tell you. The Cartman thing was our only secret, and that's because Stan doesn't tell other peoples' secrets."

Kyle shook his head, hoping the thoughts would shake out, too.

"I…I have to go find Stan," he muttered and pushed past Kenny, walking into the school.

Kenny smirked, albeit evilly. "Never mind that I'm still lying, and you don't know that he's in love with you."

"Oh, and that you're in love with him, too."

* * *

_Fuck. What the fuck was that? He's _mine?_ What the fuck was I saying?_

Kyle shook his head, frowning to himself. No, there was no way he could stay at school. What he needed was a day away from school with the only person who could calm him down.

Kyle nodded to himself and walked to a class he'd memorized, but stopped before he reached the door. Why Bebe's class? Kyle frowned; in all honesty, he didn't want to talk to Bebe. She wasn't the one he first ran to—the red-head just got used to running to his girlfriend because his best friend was ignoring him. He sighed.

Bebe wasn't who he needed right now.

He continued walking to the other side of the school, where his super best friend was waiting. Kyle peeked into the class through the door window…thing…and saw Stan sulking in his seat. The Jew frowned; he hoped Stan wasn't still mad at him. Stan wasn't looking toward the door, so he would have to figure out how to get the other's attention. Kyle grinned.

He backed away from the door, crossed his arms, and made a sound like a dying giraffe.

Stan's head immediately perked up, as did the rest of the classes. The boy grinned and raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Marsh?" the teacher asked.

"May I be excused? There's a giraffe dying somewhere and, as an animal rights activist, it is my duty to ensure that creature is given a swift and painless death."

The teacher stared at him for a while before nodding. Stan smiled, grabbed his bag, and stood. He walked out of the class, eyebrow raised, and looked around for his ushanka-wearing friend. He heard the sound of another giraffe dying and grinned, walking towards it. Before he turned the corner, though, The Mole burst out of a class, looking around.

"W-Where are zey? Where are ze fucking guard dogs?"

"M-Mole," Stan said evenly, "We've already saved Terrance and Phillip. There are no guard dogs. You're safe."

"O-Oh," the Mole said, straightening himself. "In zat case, I will return to class." He promptly turned, and walked back inside his rather shocked class.

Stan shook his head, thinking how unfortunate it was that Mole still suffered from PTSD. However, he continued walking to the sound and ran into the arms of one Kyle Brofloski.

"Why, hello there," Stan grinned, looking down at red curls.

Kyle chuckled, looking up at Stan, "Yo."

"I'm sorry about earlier," Stan frowned, hugging the red-head tightly.

Kyle smiled, "It's okay. Kenny told me everything."

Stan immediately backed away, "He what? Everything? E-Even about me?"

"Y-Yeah," Kyle nodded, raising an eyebrow, "How you were doing this to help out Cartman…"

Stan's eyes widened, "O-Oh. Right. Good. Th-Then he told you everything."

Kyle sighed, averting his eyes.

_Kenny frowned. "Kyle…he doesn't."_

_"What?"_

_"He doesn't tell you everything."_

"S…Stan," Kyle began, "Is there something you're hiding from me?"

Stan looked shocked before giving the world's most unconvincing smile, "No… of course not."

Kyle bit his lip, "Dude…you know you can tell me everything, right? That's why we're super best bro friends."

"Why would I be hiding anything from you, bro?"

Kyle shook his head, looking into the other's eyes, "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

Stan looked away, sighing, then smiled at his friend. "How about this? I…I have a secret that I can't tell you right now."

"Right now?"

"Yeah. For right now. I'll tell you soon."

"What is it about?"

"If I told you that, you'd figure it out. I know I tell you everything Kyle, and I want to keep telling you everything, but just trust me on this."

Kyle scowled, but his face softened at the look Stan was giving him.

"I will tell you everything soon, once I figure it out for myself."

Kyle stared at him for a while; Stan swallowed, hand twitching and ready to grab the other should he walk away. Eventually, Kyle smiled slowly.

"You know, only girls need to figure out their feelings before they tell their friends. But I got used to you being a fag, so it's cool."

Stan grinned, hugging Kyle. "I'm glad you accept me and all my faults. That's how I know we'll have a successful marriage."

Kyle chuckled, hugging his friend close. "Oh, absolutely."

"Bebe can be our surrogate mother."

"We're having kids?"

"Obviously. I need to pass on the Marsh name."

"Why are we taking your name?"

"Because I'm the man in the relationship."

"…You're an animal loving pussy who turned into a faggy goth when his girlfriend left him."

"Yeah, well, you're a scrawny, diabetic Jew. Also, you said 'I love you' first."

"What? No, I didn't. You did."

"No. Remember when Indiana Jones was raped? You said it first."

"Aw, really? Crap."

"And thus, you wear the bridal gown. Better prepare your bridesmaid."

"Obviously, it has to be Bebe, what with her being our surrogate mother."

"We are such fags," Stan finally laughed.

Kyle joined him, laughing into Stan's shoulder. For whatever reason, the Jew felt comfortable there, in Stan's arms. He figured that, yeah, it was kind of gay, but he couldn't imagine another feeling that was better than this.

"You know how I know you guys are gay?" Cartman asked, scowling at them, "Because you're holding each other ever so lovingly. Fucking fags."

"Makes sense," Kyle shrugged, a smile on his face as he let go of Stan.

Stan couldn't help the beaming smile on his face, "Naturally."

"So, Cartman, this Wendy thing," Kyle began.

Cartman's eyes widened, and he immediately glared at Stan, "What the fuck did you—"

"Kenny told him. Go ask him what happened."

Cartman narrowed his eyes, and raised an eyebrow. Stan shook his head minutely. Kyle stood there awkwardly for a moment, frowning to himself.

"So," he began.

"Yeah, sorry you weren't part of that conversation," Stan apologized.

"Not like you'd want to know, Jew. So, where's your ho?" Cartman asked.

"She's not a ho and she's probably in class."

"She's not there."

Kyle blinked. "She's not? That's strange."

Cartman scowled. "Wendy is gone, too. But I know I saw her today."

Kyle frowned, before he "oh'd" in comprehension. "I know what probably happened. I think Bebe got mad at me right after Stan…kind of left, and I guess she and Wendy skipped to talk about it."

The Jew sighed. "I hope she doesn't leave me."

Stan scowled to himself. Cartman raised an eyebrow again.

"I mean, I know I hate you guys, but since we're all on the same side right now, you'd think you guys could at least not get all pissy when I'm around."

Kyle raised an eyebrow and smiled, "Sorry, fat tits. Anyway, so…I'm on board. I'll be Montague."

Stan grinned, hugging the Jew tightly. "_Yes_."

Cartman let out a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding. "Good. Well, try-outs are tomorrow. Have you guys got your lines down?"

"FFFFFFFFFFF—"

"You guys are such _asshole-fucking-wankers!_ I'll fucking kill you!"

As classes ended and the next period began, people made it a point to get out of the way, but they stuck around to watch. It was a pretty curious sight—the really sexy quarterback and the really sexy hipster were holding hands and running away from the recently attractive line backer who was an ultimate dick. What made it curious, though, was that the raven-haired boy was yelling about how the line backer needed to spare their lives because, otherwise, how would he and the red-head get married? The line backer, in response, said it was probably better that they not be allowed to "fag up the world" and procreate.

Curious indeed.

* * *

Stan and Kyle sat outside under the tree where Stan confessed to Kenny and Cartman, where Stan lied to Kyle, and where Kenny lied to Kyle. Stan grinned. Obviously, this tree had to be the tree where he confessed. It shouldn't have to be dubbed the "lying tree," after all.

"So, let's go over these lines," Kyle began.

"I wonder how faggy they'll be."

Stan and Kyle took a moment to read over, once more, what they would be doing. Stan's face reddened considerably while Kyle's paled.

"…Stan?"

"Yes, Kyle?"

"Did you know about this sex scene?"

"No, Kyle."

"…Stan?"

"Yes, Kyle?"

"…Do you realize that we're gonna have to take off part of our clothing?"

"I do now, Kyle."

"How the hell do you rehearse that?"

Stan bit his lip, then grinned, thanking Wendy and all the powers that be. "I know how."

Kyle lifted an eyebrow, uttering no protests as the other boy grabbed his hand, dragged him on his feet, and walked to Stan's car.

"Where are we going, dude?"

"My place," Stan replied.

"Why?"

"Well, you don't want people to see us practicing here, do you? They'll think we're gay for real."

"They already think that."

"Okay, then they'll think we're exhibitionists."

"I see your point. Well, my parents aren't home right now."

"Okay, that's better. My grandpa's at my place."

"He's _still _alive?"

Stan groaned as he opened the car door for Kyle, watching the red-head climb in. "I'm considering helping him kill himself."

Kyle chuckled, waiting for Stan to climb into the drivers' seat. "I would've killed him by now."

"If he doesn't die by the end of this year, I suppose I should help him out and put rat poison in his tea or whatever."

"Might be nice. Not like we ever get arrested in this town."

"I know, dude."

"So, what exactly are we doing?" Kyle asked.

"You'll see."

* * *

"It's like we're playing strip poker," Kyle muttered.

"Oh, don't be a pussy," Stan retorted, straddling the Jew.

Kyle sighed from his position on the bed, under Stan, and pouted. "I'm not being a pussy. I just don't think this is a good idea."

"Since when has being shirtless with your equally shirtless bro on a bed with your bro on top and about to kiss you not a good idea?"

"….Really."

"Okay, I know, but shut up. Let's get these fucking lines."

"I think Wendy totally bullshitted this crap up," Stan muttered to himself as he looked over the lines.

"…Wendy? Wait. Why _did_ Wendy agree to this if she doesn't know about Cartman liking her?" Kyle asked.

Stan bit his lip, grateful that the script he was holding hid his face. "We used another excuse."

"Am I allowed to know?"

"I don't recall. Ask Kenny. He made it up."

"All right, then," Kyle responded slowly. "So…go for it."

Stan nodded, grinning, breathed out slowly while closing his eyes. As his eyes opened, there was a light of intensity in Stan's blue eyes that made Kyle gasp. Even though Kyle knew Stan was just acting, it was still breath-taking.

"Montague…will you sleep with me?" Stan asked in a completely serious and deeply romanticized voice.

"…Capulet?"

"Yes, Montague?"

"That isn't on the script."

"I know. Do you wanna?"

Kyle finally burst out laughing; Stan rolled off of Kyle, laughing as well. Kyle grinned, pushing the other off the bed. "Fuck you, man."

"When and where?" Stan asked from the floor.

"Can we please get through this?"

Stan sighed, straddling the Jew again. "Okay, okay…"

Another big breath, another closing of the eyes, and once more, the intensity was back in ocean eyes. Kyle's green eyes stared back, and the Jew made an effort to breathe normally.

"Montague…thou have the eyes of mine dreams," Stan slowly purred, "Speak, so that I can confirm thy voice of heavenly delight."

"Heavenly?" Kyle responded, "No, it shan't be so—heavenly is not correct here. Delightful though this may be; beautiful though it may seem; you and I cannot call this union heavenly. We sin! We sin, and we may suffer for it."

"Don't speak such gay words because these lines _are fucking atrocious_."

"_Gawd_, tell me about it."

"I think we got these lines," Stan grinned, "Let's get to the part where I have you half naked—oh wait, I already have."

"My, you're good at what you do."

"Or you're just easy."

"Recall that I did not put out on the first date."

"You would have if I was trying."

"Pfft. You _were_ trying. I was just nice enough not to call you out on it."

"I was not."

"You paid for everything."

"….I was not."

"Anyway, Stan, what do we have to do with our shirts off?"

"Well, all you have to do is not get freaked out and throw up on me. I'll handle the rest."

Kyle raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "Oh? Okay." He closed his eyes and puckered.

Stan chuckled. Rather than slipping into his acting persona, though, he cupped the other's cheek gently—the way he wished he could do freely. His thumb traced Kyle's puckered lower lip, electing a smile from the brunette. He began to lean in, and Kyle could feel Stan's weight shift. Immediately, Kyle's eyes tightened and he swallowed the lump that had developed in this throat. Slowly, Stan's lips met Kyle's—gentle at first, Stan merely pecked the other boy, but moved in again to place a longer kiss on the Jew's lips; finally, Stan's lips stayed on Kyle's, and he began to move them. At first, Kyle didn't know how to respond. He didn't feel sick, but that didn't mean he really enjoyed the kiss. However, he loosened his eyelids, and let Stan kiss him. Then, Stan's tongue ran along the Jew's bottom lip and a hand went into the red curls.

Kyle purred.

Cautiously, he wrapped his arms around Stan's shoulders and began to kiss back, his one tongue shyly peeking into Stan's mouth. The latter was more than welcoming, and the kiss became more heated. Soon, Stan's hands started roving over Kyle's torso and Kyle's nails began digging into Stan's back. Stan moaned unintelligibly, and Kyle moaned back.

Except, he very clearly moaned Stan's name.

Immediately, the two snapped back into reality, and Stan wrenched himself from Kyle's lips and off the red-head's lap. Kyle sat up, a hand flying to his forehead. Determinedly, he tried to keep the red off his face. However, once he peeked at his lap, Kyle much preferred that the blood run to his cheeks rather than his…yeah.

Stan, however, was half-euphoric. Kyle had moaned _his_ name—not Bebe's. Kyle knew exactly who he was making out with, and Kyle _enjoyed _it. Still, Stan was nervous to see as to how this would affect their friendship.

"So," he began.

Yeah," Kyle replied.

"Uh…wow."

Kyle looked away and Stan bit his lip, worried.

"Yeah. Wow."

Stan frowned. "Kyle?" Kyle sighed, then turned back to the other boy, smiling.

"You really know how to sweep someone off their feet."

Stan smiled back. "I have a talent."

"Duly noted."

"Told you I could've totally gotten you to put out on our first date."

"Pfft. You got my shirt off because of a play. I'd hardly call that game."

Stan chuckled. If only Kyle knew.

* * *

Bebe and Wendy had been at the swings for some time and, eventually, Wendy realized that school had been over for twenty minutes and brought that to Bebe's attention.

"Really? Well," was all she said.

"Bebe, I'm really worried about you. Is this Kyle and Stan thing really bothering you so much?"

"A little bit, yeah," she replied, "But maybe for different reasons than you're thinking."

"So, it's not that you think you're ruining their friendship?"

"Not so much anymore. I mean, Kyle cares about Stan so much, but he makes sure to make time for me all the time. I think I'm worried that maybe Stan and Kyle will start reconnecting and Kyle won't have as much time anymore."

"That is a valid worry."

"I think so."

"Well, maybe this party will help ease up some tensions."

"Yeah. I probably shouldn't drink too much, though."

"Nah, c'mon," Wendy insisted, "Let loose."

Bebe laughed, "You must be really worried, huh?"

Wendy grinned, hopping off the swings.

"Whatever gets me back my Bebe."

Bebe laughed again, swinging high and throwing her head back, hair falling off her shoulders. "You crack me up, Wendy."

"I try. Let's go to my place."

"No, no I think I'll go to Kyle's place. I want to see him."

Wendy pouted, watching Bebe jump off the swings. "I thought you loved me."

"I mostly do, yeah," Bebe grinned, "But really. I acted really poorly to him earlier. I want to make it up to him."

"Okay. I'll walk you."

Wendy and Bebe walked down the street towards the only Jewish house in the neighborhood, talking about the time Bebe instigated a shoe conspiracy and how that was the dumbest thing ever.

Bebe realized, now, that shoes were not worth Kyle Brofloski.

* * *

Welp, that went better than usual, chapter-wise. It could be worse. As for that contest thing, I've decided to scrap it. I haven't been able to update ffnet for a while because of some retarded error, so I spent some time to read the reviews you guys gave me, and I couldn't stop smiling. I know I'm really distant and kind of a dick, but it means a lot. Thanks so much. I hope to update two chapters at once, as soon as ffnet fixes it's shit. I really love you guys. Thanks for the encouragement. I think I can write something awesome now.


	8. Something About Us

Kept my word. In one night, I managed to type this chapter up. This is my thank you to all of you for your lovely reviews.

So, like I said, the contest is scrapped. However, I will still be drawing the fan art. I've got a rough sketch so far. I wish my scanner were working, so I could draw it on paper first, but well.

Warnings: If you have not seen Interstella 5555, I'm sorry, but there is a spoiler ahead. If you don't know what I'm talking about…well. You're missing out.

Seriously. This double chapter thing? All thanks to Interstella 5555 and Daft Punk.

* * *

Wendy pouted, watching Bebe jump off the swings. "I thought you loved me."

"I mostly do, yeah," Bebe grinned, "But really. I acted really poorly to him earlier. I want to make it up to him."

"Okay. I'll walk you."

Wendy and Bebe walked down the street towards the only Jewish house in the neighborhood, talking about the time Bebe instigated a shoe conspiracy and how that was the dumbest thing ever.

Bebe realized, now, that shoes were not worth Kyle Brofloski.

* * *

After a semi-successful practice, wherein Stan was sure his Jewish crush would get the part, the two boys sat together—still shirtless—on Kyle's bed; for the last half hour, they had been watching _Interstella 5555_, and it was about to come up to the part where Shep died after showing Stella how much he loved her. Stan grinned to himself; even though he was the "animal loving pussy," Kyle was always the one to cry at this part. True to form, out of the side of his eye, Stan spotted Kyle's eyes beginning to water.

"Aw, Kyle, are you crying?" he asked.

"Sh-shut up! You know this part always gets to me!" the Jew retorted.

Stan chuckled and hugged the red-head close. Kyle continued to watch the screen, even though he knew he'd only cry harder. He couldn't help it. Shep was such a good guy, and for him to die like that and to leave Stella after having her fall in love with him was just such a painful scene. Unconsciously, Kyle hugged the taller boy closer.

Stan blinked down at Kyle, but made no comment. Instead he smiled and diverted his attention to the screen, watching the Cresendolls' burial for Shep. When he felt Kyle cry a little more, he wrapped his arm more securely around the Jew, rubbing Kyle's back.

Kyle smiled, his tears lessening.

* * *

Kenny had nothing to do after leaving Kyle, and after a day of class, decided to head immediately over to Stan's. However, when he was greeted by Stan's _still-alive_ grandfather (Why the fuck are you still here? he'd asked. Kill me, the old man begged, instead of a clear answer), Kenny decided to head to Kyle's house. Seeing as how Stan and Kyle were very close to each other, it wasn't a long walk; and seeing as how Kenny was a master lock-pick, he'd easily entered the house and waltzed up the stairs. He noticed Kyle's door shut and heard the voices of two very gay men behind the door. Slowly, he creaked the door open to hear their conversation.

After watching them practice for a bit—which was torture. Wendy really needed to brush up on Shakespeare—the two decided to end it there and watch Daft Punk's movie. He shrugged, about to barge in, but something in him told him to wait. Kenny decided that, this once, he should follow his instincts. He did, watched, and noticed the way Kyle hugged himself ever closer to the raven-headed boy at the scene where Shep died.

Kenny grinned to himself, already reading through every one of their motions. Deciding that he'd rather molest them later—when they weren't about to possibly reveal their feelings about one another—Kenny walked right back outside and opened the door. There, at the porch with her hand raised as if about to knock, stood Bebe Stevens with Wendy Testaburger right behind her.

"Oh, hey, Kenny," she said, surprised, "I didn't know you were here. I guess Kyle's here too, huh?"

Kenny carefully thought about what he could say, then shrugged.

"No. I just broke in. I thought I'd be able to see some hot guy on guy action, but neither Stan nor Kyle are here right now. I was just leaving to see if I could find them at Cartman's."

Bebe frowned, "Are you sure?"

"If they were here, don't you think I'd be molesting them right now rather than leaving?"

Bebe nodded, and Kenny almost laughed at how easy it was. He was getting to be as bad as Cartman.

Bebe frowned to herself. "Where could they be?"

Kenny sighed to himself; he didn't like feeling guilty. "Bebe, whatever you're worried about, stop it. Kyle still cares a lot about you, but right now, he kind of needs to help his bros. Stan, Cartman, and I are caught up in something, and Kyle is trying to help us, but we can't let you know, because it's a bro thing. So, don't worry, okay?"

After contemplating it, Bebe nodded. "Okay….yeah, okay. I'll see you later, Kenny."

And with that, Bebe and Wendy turned away and walked towards the blonde's house, Wendy momentarily looking back and up at Kyle's window, where she knew she saw a bob of red hair. However, though not exactly sure what Kenny was planning, she figured it was best Bebe not see Kyle right now anyway.

"What now?" Bebe asked.

"C'mon. Let's go shopping. We can pick out some new, slutty outfits for this party thing."

Bebe giggled and nodded. "I suppose that would make me feel better."

* * *

Kenny let out a sigh of relief he didn't realize he was holding. The entire time, he had hoped neither Kyle nor Stan would decide to come downstairs while he was lying to Bebe. He was about to leave again, when he shrugged and decided to go upstairs one more time.

As he neared the room, he heard one of Daft Punk's softer songs playing—he recognized it as "Something About Us," and creaked the door open once more. For a second, he thought that Kyle was making himself watch the scene again.

_Probably to cuddle up to Stan again,_ the blonde chuckled to himself. However, the song lasted longer than the version in the movie and he strained his eyes to look into the crack. His blue eyes widened slightly; inside the room, Stan and Kyle—with their shirts back on—were slowly dancing together, holding each other closely. Kenny frowned. Was that in the script? Of course, it wasn't a set back to what they were trying to achieve in the end, but so soon? Hell, what was the point fussing with the script then? Kenny stood, opening the door, and he walked into the room.

He went unnoticed.

He watched the two boys slowly dance until the music faded, then decided to make his presence known.

"Man, you guys are hot."

Tactful, as always.

Surprised, Stan and Kyle looked up at the intruder, the red head rolling his eyes. They separated slowly and Kyle picked up the script.

"Leave it to you to stalk us," he mumbled.

"What were you guys doin'?" Kenny asked excitedly, giving Stan a meaningful glance.

Kyle, who was looking at the script, missed the look. Stan shook his head at the blonde, "We found out there's a dance part. Wendy sent me a text a while ago, and I just saw it. It said we have to know how to slow dance, especially, but dancing in general would be nice for us to know."

"Yeah, so since we were already in the mood for Daft Punk, we decided to put on one of their slower songs and practice slow dancing to it. How long have you been watching us?" Kyle asked.

"Since Shep died," Kenny answered unabashedly.

"Creeper. Anyway, did we look convincing when we danced?"

Kenny smiled. "I need to get going. I have to see some people." He turned, walking to the door, and was half way out when Kyle called to him.

"Kenny! Answer the damn question! How did we look while we were dancing?"

Kenny smiled wryly and, for the first time in their entire friendship, Stan noticed a twinge of sadness in Kenny's usually bright smile.

"Like you love each other more than anyone in your lives."

And Kenny was gone.

Kyle shrugged and smiled, satisfied. He threw the script down on the bed, craning his neck to pop some joints. He turned to Stan, noticing that the boy was still staring at the spot where Kenny was standing.

"Stan? You okay?" the Jew asked.

Stan's frown deepened. "Kyle…do…do you suppose Kenny was in love with one of us?"

Kyle blinked, "What?"

"When he left, after he saw us dancing…I could swear that I saw some sadness."

"Really?" Kyle asked, "That's how Kenny always smiles at us."

Stan's eyes widened and he remembered all those smiles. The day Kyle had come into school looking like an Adonis, and Kyle went out with Bebe.

Kenny smiled like that.

The day Kyle and Bebe were on break because Kyle was too stressed out and didn't want to take it out on Bebe, but very much reassured his friends that he would be back with her soon enough.

Kenny smiled like that.

The day Bebe broke up with Kyle because she caught Kyle with him after their naked sleep over, and Kyle was crushed and sad and didn't know what to do. Kenny had suggested to forget her, but Kyle really wanted Bebe back.

Kenny smiled like that.

The day Stan told Kenny how he felt about Kyle. The day Stan told Kenny his plan. The day Wendy agreed to help Stan get Kyle. And just now.

Kenny _always_ smiled like that.

Stan frowned deeply. "Kyle, I'll be right back."

Kyle nodded curiously, watching his friend run out the door. He thought about what Stan had said, and tried to think of a time when Kenny _hadn't_ smiled like that around him. He stopped smiling like that when Stan didn't hang around Kyle as often and, for a while, Kyle thought that was Kenny's fake smile. He sighed and sat down, letting Daft Punk play in the background, wishing the warm feeling would come back.

* * *

Stan didn't exactly know where he was running, but he happened to see a tuft of blonde hair in the florists' shop and walked in. Inside, there stood Kenny, staring at the pink roses.

"Kenny, I—" he began.

Kenny gave him a look and raised his eyebrow, amused. "Yo. Why aren't you dancing with your boyfriend?"

Stan frowned. "What did that smile mean, Kenny?"

Kenny frowned and looked back at the flowers. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Kenny, don't lie." Stan sighed. "Do…Do you love Kyle?"

Kenny gave him an earnestly surprised look, then began to laugh, almost uncontrollably. He began walking towards the door, grabbed Stan's elbow, and dragged him outside. He kept on walking and laughing—though the laugh was sounding more and more hysterical—until he had dragged the taller teen to Stark's pond. He sat on the bench and Stan realized that Kenny wasn't laughing.

He was crying.

Stan sat beside the blonde, wrapping an arm carefully around his shoulders.

"I…I'm sorry, Kenny," he muttered. "I didn't know you loved Kyle, too."

Kenny finally calmed down, and let out a small chuckle, "Stan, you're such a dumbass."

Stan frowned, confused.

"I'm not in love with Kyle, dude."

"But, then, why would be sad all those times with Kyle, and him getting together with Bebe, and stuff?"

Kenny shook his head. "Do I really have to spell it out?"

Stan sighed, running a hand through his shaggy black hair. He thought hard—if Kenny didn't love Kyle…then…

And then it made sense. Kyle came into the school, looking like an Adonis, and hooked up with Bebe. Stan was devastated.

The day Kyle and Bebe took a break, but Kyle told everyone they would still get back together. Stan was devastated.

The day Kyle and Bebe broke up and Stan had to help them get back together. The day Stan told Kenny how he felt about Kyle. The day Stan told Kenny his plan. The day Wendy agreed to help Stan get Kyle. And just recently.

Kenny wasn't sad about Kyle being with Bebe. Kenny was sad that…

"You were sad that…that _I_ was sad because I was in love with Kyle. And you knew already. You knew from the start." Stan realized.

"And it hurt to know that you were so in love with Kyle that you'd never love me…the way I love you," Kenny sighed. "I was hoping you would never notice. I wanted to wait until after I got over you to tell you."

Stan swallowed. "How long?"

"Since eighth grade. You started hanging out with me more all of a sudden, and I knew it was because you were confused about your feelings for Kyle, but I didn't care. I ate up the attention. And I found…I found that I liked spending time with you."

"Damn, Kenny. It's almost senior year. That long?"

Kenny nodded. "I knew you didn't feel the same. I didn't want to burden you. I knew you'd do something stupid like try to date me to make me happy. It wouldn't have worked."

"How do you know?"

Kenny laughed—a real laugh—and looked at his dark-haired friend with a raised eyebrow. "Stan, you can't help who you love. And if you really love them, you'll know when they're meant for you and when they aren't. You were so in love with Kyle…if you really liked me as more than a friend, even a little, then you would've noticed from day one that my smile wasn't quite right. You just noticed today, bro."

Stan frowned guiltily.

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Kenny reassured, "You only noticed because I was more down than usual. I mean…I know I agreed to help and I really do want to. I really just want you to be happy—you and Kyle. But seeing you two, together already? It really ate me up. I guess I slipped."

Stan chuckled, "We're nowhere near together."

Kenny nodded.

They sat in silence for a while, observing the pond. Occasionally, a bird would chirp, or a child would run by, or a deer would skip around, or even a fish would hop out of the water. The boys sat still, staring at the water and at their pasts.

Suddenly, Kenny reached into Stan's pocket, pulling out the others' droid.

"Do you have internet on this thing?" he asked.

Stan nodded, watching the boy fiddle with the phone. After a short while, "Something About Us" began to play and Kenny stared at Stan expectantly. Stan smiled weakly, stood, and offered his hand to the blonde. Kenny took his hand and the brunet drew the former in close, much like he did with Kyle, and began to dance slowly with him. Kenny released a small, contented smile and moved with Stan.

"_It might not be the right time,"_ Stan softly sang in Kenny's ear, _"I might not be the right one. But there's something about us I want to say…'cause there's something between us anyway."_

Gradually, tears leaked out of the blonde's eyes, and his shoulders began to shudder. At the end of the second verse, Stan pulled away gently. Looking at the crying boy, he lifted Kenny's chin up and smiled at him. Sniffling, Kenny smiled weakly in return. Stan moved in closer, brushing his lips against Kenny's. Kenny shyly kissed him back, then hugged the brunet close as he cried heavily into Stan's shoulder, with no one to witness it but the pink roses growing by the pond.

"_I need you more than anything in my life._

_I want you more than anything in my life._

_I'll miss you more than anyone in my life._

_I love you more than anyone in my life."

* * *

_

Cartman had been bored after classes and since Kenny had been nowhere around, he decided the mall was the next best bet. However, the mall was proving to be a hell hole. As soon as he arrived—because, unfortunately, he forgot Valentine's Day was about a month away—girls started flocking at him to be their valentine. A few years ago, he would've given anything for this much attention, but now, it was just plain annoying. All these girls were air-headed idiots who only wanted to look good on Valentine's Day. He shoved his way through the horde of women, briefly considering actually tackling them.

No, none of them were worthy of his time. It had taken a grueling diet and exercise and some actual confidence in the fact that he was no longer fat, but he realized that a woman without brains was useless. And then, that's when he remembered Wendy Testaburger.

Wendy was a strong-willed, out-spoken, though often wrong woman who had grabbed his attention early in his childhood. It took him a while to realize that all the picking he had done was his way of showing affection. He did everything he could to gain her attention. Smart as he was, he grudgingly admitted that Kyle was still smarter. However, Cartman was still proud to note that he and Wendy were basically in a tie for second place.

Another girl latched herself to his arm and he let out the most feral growl he could manage. It didn't work.

"Hey, you, beat it. Obviously, he doesn't want anything to do with you," Cartman suddenly heard and turned to see none other than Wendy Testaburger, hands at her hips. On the floor were quite a few bags from clothing stores and to her side stood the ho Kyle was dating.

The girl 'eep'ed and ran off. By now, everyone in the school knew not to fuck with Wendy Testaburger, especially when it came to men.

Cartman looked at Wendy and scowled, despite how badly he wanted to smile.

"Like I needed your help, hippie."

Wendy just smiled back. "You're welcome, fatass."

"'Ey! I'm not fat anymore!"

Bebe giggled. "Anymore? So you acknowledge you were fat before?"

"No one's talking to you, ho! Don't you have a Jew to screw?"

Bebe frowned and poked her tongue out at Cartman. She stormed off going into another store and knocked over a girl there, heading straight for the shoes department.

Cartman sneered at Wendy. "I suppose you're going to tell me off now, eh?"

To his surprise, Wendy giggled and smiled, shaking her head.

"No. That's the first genuine response she's given all day." She smiled at Cartman again, "Thank you, Eric."

Cartman flushed and looked away, muttering a 'whatever' under his breath. He watched Wendy walk away, heading towards Bebe, and smiled to himself a little.

"You're welcome, ho," he said softly and walked to the parking lot, suddenly in a much better mood.

* * *

Kenny had finally calmed down and sat beside Stan on the bench, his head resting on the Stan's shoulder. The entire time, Stan gently held onto Kenny's hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. Eventually, Kenny sighed and lifted his head, looking at the brunet.

"I'm sorry, Stan," he whispered. "I hope I didn't confuse you more."

Stan smiled weakly. "I'll be fine. You?"

Kenny smiled back. "I'll be okay, just…"

"Yeah?"

"Promise me two things."

Stan nodded, determined.

"One: you have to make Kyle happy, no matter what. You two belong together…trust me."

Stan smiled softly. "I promise. The second one?"

"Two: I want this to be our song. But I also want this to be yours and Kyle's song."

Stan looked at him, a mite confused.

"I just…I know you love Kyle and I know he loves you. I know you two will be very happy. And one day, I'll get over you and be happy with someone else. Still, whenever you play this song and dance with Kyle, I want you to remember me too—to remember _our_ dance and _our_ kiss—even if it didn't mean much to you."

Stan nodded slowly, understanding. He smiled brightly.

"I promise, Kenny."

Kenny smiled weakly back at him. "I should get going."

"Where are you going?" Stan asked.

"Probably the cemetery. I need a place to think."

Stan nodded again, watching the blonde leave.

"Kenny," he called, and said boy turned around.

"Yeah, Stan?"

Stan gave him his most winning smile, "It meant a lot to me. Even if you don't believe me."

Kenny blinked then grinned at the quarterback and nodded. "Thanks, dude." With that, he finally walked away towards the block of cemetery stones dedicated to one Kenny McCormick.

Stan sighed deeply, quickly texting Kyle to let him know he was okay and would be on his way back soon, then walked to the florist. As he stood up from the bench, he looked at the pink roses to his side—his eyes widened.

"_I know you love Kyle and I know he loves you_," Kenny had said. Stan frowned pensively. Kenny was very, very observant. He could definitely be right. Stan sighed, shook his head, and continued walking. It was best not to raise his hopes.

He walked into the store, and Flora faced him with a comforting smile on her face.

"Hey, champ," she welcomed, "How goes?"

"I just broke my friend's heart."

Flora frowned shortly before smiling at him again. "No, you didn't. You never once led him on. Kenny knew from the start how you felt about Kyle. Now that he's got if off his chest, you guys can continue working on your friendship."

"How did you know?"

Flora chuckled faintly, "I'm a woman. Besides, he came in to buy a rose for you. A yellow one."

Stan smiled softly. "For friendship?"

Flora nodded and Stan grinned. "I think I should get going back to Kyle's. He agreed to the play thing. I'll come tomorrow to update you."

"You should. I obviously don't get enough face time with you."

* * *

Stan sighed as he arrived at the Jew's house, taking in the cars at the driveway; Kyle's parents were home. He knocked on the door and Sheila opened it, smiling at him. However, she began to frown.

"Stan, is everything all right?" she asked.

Stan smiled weakly at her and nodded. "Yeah, everything will be fine. I just need to talk to Kyle."

Sheila nodded, opening the door wider for the boy to enter. She watched Stan ascend the stairs and sighed.

Upstairs, Stan knocked on Kyle's door. The Jew opened the door and smiled at Stan, letting him in.

"So, did you find out what was wrong with Kenny?" he asked.

The other boy nodded. "He was in love with me."

Kyle blinked, taken aback, and sat on the bed; he patted the space beside him and Stan sat down. The Jew sighed and wrapped an arm around Stan.

"I don't know what to say."

"I don't know either," Stan admitted, "I wish I knew I was hurting him all these years."

Kyle frowned, patting his friend's back. Stan sat in silence for a while, staring at the floor. He thought over everything he had learned, and hated how right Kenny was about everything—he sighed, thinking there was nothing the raven-haired boy could do to make Kenny happy right now. Stan looked at Kyle, who smiled weakly at him.

Stan smiled back, and realized he was wrong. Right now, he could do everything in his power to be happy, and Kenny would be happy.

"Kyle, can I see the script, please?"

Kyle nodded and handed over the booklet. Stan reviewed the parts they had practiced. "Oh."

"What is it?"

"We have to kiss at the end of that dance."

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you don't have some sort of gay crush on me? You always point out the kissing scenes."

Stan merely laughed.

"All right," Kyle agreed, standing, "Let's go over it, then."

"Really?" Stan smirked, amused.

"If I'm going to take the part where I make out with you, I better be convincing."

Stan chuckled and stood. Kyle put on some piano music and walked over to Stan. The other boy, however, was frowning.

"Not that song," he said. Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"Which song, then?"

"'Something About Us'."

Kyle cocked his head to the side, confused, but decided not to question it and walked back to the CD-to-record player converter—"You're such a hipster," Stan snickered. "Shut up," Kyle replied—and put "Discovery" in the CD slot. He lowered the needle to the blank vinyl disc, and "One more time" began to play. He fast-forwarded to "Something About Us" and walked over to Stan.

"Pleased?" he asked sarcastically.

Stan grinned, putting a hand on Kyle's waist, "Very."

He took hold of Kyle's hand with his free hand and began to dance to the music. As they swayed, Kyle bit his lip then sighed.

"Why?"

Stan looked down at him. "Why, what?"

"Why this song?"

Stan blinked and chuckled. "It's our song, bro."

Kyle looked at Stan's serene face, sighed, and smiled softly.

"Fag."

The second verse came to an end, and Stan pulled away, using his fingers to lift Kyle's face. Kyle slowly closed his eyes and Stan leaned in, his lips brushing up against the Jew's.

It was a strange experience, Stan decided. True to his promise, he thought of his dance and kiss with Kenny, but he also focused completely on the boy in front of him. He didn't think it possible to think of two people at once, but then, promises tend to change everything.

He pulled away from the Jew, smiling lovingly. Kyle smiled back at him, and wondered just how good an actor Stan was. He could've sworn that smile the brunet was wearing was real. However, he pushed that thought to the back of his mind and continued dancing with his super best friend.

"_I need you more than anything in my life._

_I want you more than anything in my life._

_I'll miss you more than anyone in my life._

_I love you more than anyone in my life."

* * *

_

I feel asleep at my laptop while I was writing this and now I unfortunately forgot the rest of what I was going to write. Still, this feels like a good place to stop. I briefly considered not going this route with Kenny, but in the end, I went with it. Here's hoping it's okay. Sorry this chapter wasn't too funny, but I feel like Kenny deserved this chapter.


	9. Kool Aid

And now this chapter. It was pretty obnoxious to do research on this play again. Also, I've decided to pay attention to French masculine/feminine rules. For every time I referred to Stan as a "brunette," or to Kenny as a "blonde," I apologize. From now on, I'll be sure to use "brunet" and "blond," respectively.

* * *

As Ms. Mercury was currently the hottest teacher on staff and South Park High's principal was a lecherous old man, Ms. Mercury was able to make it so that the school day was only a half day and that the rest of the day would be devoted to play tryouts. This, of course, went well with everyone. So, as classes neared their end, the four former-ninjas met up at the tree outside.

"So, how are we going about this?" Kyle asked.

Kenny shrugged. "As long as the girls have their tryouts first, we should be fine. I don't know how well Wendy will respond to Cartman being Romeo."

"Do we have any actual competition?" Stan asked.

Cartman scowled, "I checked the list earlier. Apparently, Jimmy, Tweak, Pip, Timmy, Craig, and Butters are all trying out. There are more, but those were the students from Stan's class that are forced to act, so they'll probably for go for lesser roles."

Kyle frowned. "Did you mean to use Tweek's first name or last name?"

"His first. Why?"

"You spelled it wrong. Or rather, the author did."

Cartman's eye twitched, "You fucking heeb, who the fuck cares? Stop breaking the fourth wall, asshole."

"Shut up, fat boy," Kyle snorted, "I'm just trying not to confuse the readers!"

Suddenly, the ground shook—almost angrily—and the four boys looked around nervously.

"Uh, guys, maybe we should leave the fourth wall intact, huh?" Kenny asked.

Cartman and Kyle nodded and Stan sighed.

"Anyway, how is Pip trying out?" he asked, "I thought he died in episode 201."

The ground rumbled again.

"Stan," Kenny hissed, "Stop fucking asking questions."

Stan nodded frantically and the ground quelled in its movements.

"S-so, about those other guys who are acting," Kyle began.

* * *

Wendy looked over the script again, frowning. She obviously had a difficult time with Shakespeare—perhaps she should've had Kyle write it. But then, he couldn't necessarily know what was going on at the time. She sighed.

"Wendy," Ms. Mercury approached her with a smile.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I just have some…questions about the revised script."

_Aw, crap._

"About your language…"

"Yes?"

"Well, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, your Shakespeare imitation really sucks ass."

Wendy's head fell forward to the desk. "I know."

"Maybe there's a way we could rectify this?"

Wendy frowned, "I don't know anyone who could accurately translate modern English into Shakespeare."

Ms. Mercury smiled again, "There are always other routes."

"Like what?"

"How about translating the other way around? I'm sure it would be easier to memorize. They've all still got a month and a half, so it should be fine, right?"

Wendy beamed, "Ms. Mercury, you're a genius. How did you ever end up working here?"

"To be honest," the teacher frowned, "Officer Barbrady made me after he thought I stole the stupid cow clock thing."

"Did another mass cow suicide occur?" Wendy smirked.

Ms. Mercury rolled her eyes as she left the classroom, "Why do you think the school stopped serving milk that year?"

* * *

All the students sat down in the auditorium, readying themselves for tryouts. Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman moved towards the middle of the stadium seating arrangements and chose a comfortable place. Ms. Mercury got on stage and spoke to the students about the expectations the judging staff had—which consisted of herself, Big Gay Al, and Mr. Garrison ("Is he even qualified?" Kenny snickered)—and how the play would be rewritten to a more modern version. Some students cheered; the unfortunate students who had already memorized their desired part groaned in despair. After her short speech, Ms. Mercury announced the girls' tryouts would be going first, beginning with tryouts for the Nurse. She stepped off the stage promptly, as the girls trying out for the Nurse lined up. Amongst them were Bebe, Red, and Annie.

Bebe turned to look at the audience and looked straight at Kyle, smiling. Said boy stood, waved, and blew a kiss to the blonde. Bebe giggled and "caught" it, putting the kiss to her lips. Kyle grinned, completely oblivious to the other boys' groaning. As Annie began her audition, Stan tapped Kenny's knee and motioned for him to follow the brunet. Confused, Kenny nodded, stood, and slid passed Kyle as he followed Stan out of the auditorium. Kyle's and Cartman's eyes followed them as they left.

"What's up with them?" Cartman asked. He assumed if this was a "get Kyle" talk, he would be involved in it.

Kyle frowned, a little more maliciously than he intended to. "I don't know."

Cartman raised an eyebrow. "Sure you don't."

Kyle sighed. "Cartman…have you ever noticed Kenny's smile?"

"You mean how he always fakes it around you guys? Yeah," Cartman replied easily.

Kyle frowned, "Am I the only one that didn't notice?"

"Well, the smile wasn't because of you, so yeah."

"When did you realize?"

"Around 8th grade…when it started."

Kyle sighed, looking at his lap. "I'm a terrible friend."

Cartman rolled his eyes, "Of course you are. You're Jewish."

Kyle didn't reply. His eyes stayed downcast as he mulled over what Stan had told him the day before. Kenny being in love with Stan—he didn't quite know how to take that…or how to feel about it. Stan said that he didn't love Kenny back and that he just wanted to be friends with the blond, but there was a tight feeling in his chest every time he thought about Kenny and Stan together. The sort of tight feeling that made him grit his teeth. He knew it was jealousy; however, he justified it well. Bebe already took a lot of his time and Kyle had _just_ started hanging out with the brunet again. Being with Kenny, should it ever happen, would take up even more of Stan's time, and Kyle feared that time would be coming out of Stan-Kyle time.

Cartman watched Kyle get depressed over whatever was going on in his head. It was no secret to the line backer that Kenny had a gay little crush over Stan back in 8th grade. Hell, he was the reason Kenny realized it. Cartman had mocked Kenny so much, that one day, Kenny just decided to come out with it and say it was true. He rolled his eyes. He really hated his friends, but right now—unfortunately—he needed their help. Cartman sighed heavily.

He was going to have to give a pep talk.

The horror.

"Listen, Je—Kyle. I don't know what you're so worried about, but trust me. Stan will always be there for you, because you're fags. I don't know how, but I know he's determined to prove that and—more than likely—probably already has. _Because you're fags_."

Kyle blinked then smiled. "I didn't know you cared, fa—Cartman."

Cartman scowled, "I don't. I really don't, you Jewish asshole."

Kyle smiled and nodded, suddenly much more reassured.

Neither boy noticed a certain black-haired athlete smiling behind them.

* * *

Kenny followed Stan up until the other boy's locker and almost bumped into him as Stan suddenly stopped.

"Stan?" he asked. "What's this about?"

Stan turned and smiled at Kenny.

"I'm just glad it's not awkward between us. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Kenny chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm fine. Don't worry."

They leaned against the lockers, silently. For a small while, Stan merely stared ahead; Kenny's eyes were locked on Stan's profile. The brunet glanced quickly to the side and, noticing that Kenny was staring, started blushing self-consciously. Kenny chuckled. Really, Stan was just too cute. Kenny grinned lecherously and slid closer to the taller boy.

"So, since you brought us out here all alone, I'm assuming you've finally come to your senses and wanna do it with me in the janitor's closet?"

Stan burst out laughing and punched Kenny's shoulder. "Shut up, bro."

Kenny laughed too and the blond was relieved to know that nothing had changed between him and Stan.

"So, what did you do yesterday?" Stan suddenly asked.

Kenny shrugged. "Passed by my graves. Then I went to see Chef."

"Oh?" Stan smiled fondly, remembering his and Kyle's visit. "How did that go?"

Kenny smiled.

* * *

_Though pleased to know Stan would keep his promises, it didn't mean Kenny was any less depressed. He had finally come out and told his friend how he felt. It was freeing, the blond supposed, but it was also extremely saddening to know Stan would never love him back. After staring at his own headstones for a few minutes, Kenny walked over to Chef's grave._

_On the grave, he noticed, were some chrysanthemums that were slowly drying. He frowned shortly and moved the flowers aside gently. He took out the pink and yellow roses in his pocket and placed them on the grave. He stood back to take in the grave once more and sighed._

"_Hey, Chef," the blond muttered._

"Hello, children," _the wind seemed to greet._

_Frightened at first, Kenny calmed himself down and smiled. "I miss you, Chef."_

"I miss you children, too. Now tell me what's wrong, Kenny."

_Kenny bit his lip, sighed, and sat down. He told Chef about how he began to feel strange around Stan back in 8__th__ grade. He told him how Cartman had made him so mad one day, he confessed to loving Stan. He told Chef about how Stan was so confused about his feelings for Kyle; that the brunet hung around more and more with Kenny, and how special the blond felt. He told him about everything, because it was getting too heavy to keep in anymore._

"Did you tell Stan yet, children?"

_Kenny nodded._

"Well, then, you did everything right. I promise Kenny…"

* * *

"'_Everything will be okay. I'm willing to bet you children will be even closer for it._'"

Stan nodded, listening to Kenny as he finished his story. He smiled at the blond.

"I think Chef was right."

Kenny nodded. "Thanks, Stan. We should probably get back in there."

Stan nodded. He followed Kenny back to the auditorium. As Kenny opened the door, Stan put a hand on the small shoulder, and the shorter boy turned round to face him.

"Yeah?" he asked.

Stan smiled. "I was practicing my slow dance with Kyle yesterday."

Kenny raised an eyebrow. "And you two had sex and recorded it just for me?"

Stan chuckled.

"No. However…"

He hugged the short blond close, then separated himself and patted Kenny's head fondly.

"I kept my promise."

And with that, Stan walked back into the auditorium and sat back down next to Kyle. Kenny, rooted to his spot, stared at the brunet. Stan and Kyle were already in some conversation—probably bad mouthing Red's audition—and Cartman was just glaring ahead. Kenny blinked and bit his lip. He should be happy, right? Stan kept his promise. Why was he so scared to go back to his group now?

Stan, looking around, noticed Kenny had not sat down yet. He looked over at the blond curiously and smiled at him encouragingly. Kyle stood up to see Kenny over Stan's head; the red-head smiled knowingly and motioned for Kenny to sit with them. Cartman, ever the grouch, glared over at Kenny; however, it held less malice than usual. Hell, it was even kind.

Kenny smiled softly and let go of the door, walking back to his seat. As he walked over, Stan patted his back—Kenny caught hold of the hand and squeezed it reassuringly. He sat down and smiled at Kyle, who immediately engaged him in a conversation about how much Red sucked and how Bebe was going to kick serious ass in this audition.

"By the way, Kenny," Kyle smiled, "You haven't hit on us once yet. What's up with you?"

Kenny blinked then chuckled. "If I do something in front of your girlfriend, she may break up with you again."

Kyle grinned. "I'll tell her its practice."

"You're willing to let me molest you?"

"So long as it brings back the Kenny we know and love, yeah."

Kenny laughed, shaking his head. He drew in close to the Jew, reveling in the look of utter envy Stan and Bebe were giving him, and pecked Kyle on the cheek.

"Tonight, baby. I got you."

"Glad you're back, Ken," Kyle chuckled.

"Me, too," Stan smiled, though his hand did slowly inch towards Kyle.

Kenny grinned and continued making passes at both Stan and Kyle—and sometimes Cartman, just to get a rise—and realized that, in actuality, nothing was the same anymore. Everything had changed.

It had changed for the better.

_Thanks, Chef._

"Well, now that all of us know I'm in love with Stan, I think we need to work on this threesome I've been begging you guys for."

* * *

Bebe had, as expected, gotten the part of the nurse. Red was given the part of Lady Capulet, Annie was to play Lady Montague, and tryouts for Juliet's role were about to begin. Wendy lined up confidently. Stan, Kenny, and Kyle all stood, cheering and whooping for her to get the part. Bebe came over and sat on Stan's other side and cheered as well. She grinned at her friends, blushing a little. She looked over at Cartman and noticed him sitting still. He made no motion to cheer for her. That did put a bit of a damper on her mood.

Suddenly, said line backer turned to Kyle and muttered something. Kyle looked momentarily confused before shaking his head. Kenny moved his mouth and nodded, ran out of the auditorium, and returned moments later with a giant poster board and some markers. Cartman took them, wrote something on the board then held it up.

Wendy giggled.

On the sign were the words "I don't normally cheer for hippie assholes, but seeing how everyone else here is a whore, I suppose I can cheer for you. I suggest you win, or this sign will be shoved up your environmentalist ass."

After rereading it a few times, and taking in Cartman's completely stoic expression, Wendy ended up laughing aloud. Her competitors looked at the sign and scowled. Ten minutes later, Ms. Mercury was forced to approach Cartman and ask him to lower the sign. Wendy laughed more when, instead, Cartman turned it over to the back; it read "They're making me take this down. You see what happens when I try to be nice, ho? You better win. Excuse me."

And with that, Cartman was escorted to the principal's office.

Wendy grinned and waved at her other friends. She was definitely going to be Juliet. She waited for her turn to come up, a small part of her hoping that Eric Cartman—of all people—would try out for Romeo.

Stan and the others sat back quietly as they listened to Wendy's audition. For a while, Bebe fidgeted, but kept it as low-key as possible. Kenny noticed though and sighed.

"Bebe?" he asked.

"Yeah, Kenny?"

"Did you want to switch seats?"

Bebe smiled at him and nodded. Kyle laughed as she sat down and hugged her.

"I'm sorry I didn't realize. I guess I was really taken in by Wendy's audition," he apologized.

Bebe shrugged and snuggled herself under the arm Kyle had draped over her shoulders. Neither of them noticed Stan seething. With a huff, Stan sat back with his arms crossed. Kenny put a sympathetic hand on Stan's shoulders and smiled weakly. Stan smiled back, relaxing, and nodded to his blond friend. Kenny grinned back at him, sat back, and imitated Kyle by putting an arm around Stan. Stan, catching on, took the role of Bebe, crossed his legs, and snuggled in close to Kenny.

As Wendy's very impressive audition ended, Kyle clapped and turned to Stan to inform him that Wendy definitely got the part. He did not expect what he saw.

"Stan," he deadpanned.

"Yes, Kyle?"

"What are you doing?"

"We're imitating you and Bebe."

"This is what you two always look like," Kenny interjected.

Bebe giggled, "We do not. You guys look like you're about to have sex right there."

Stan snorted at her, completely serious as he straddled Kenny's lap, his hands half way up the other boy's shirt. "We do not exaggerate."

Kenny nodded, equally serious as one hand was on Stan's ass and the other disturbingly close to the brunet's crotch, "We're just giving you a wakeup call."

Bebe laughed harder and shook her head. "Well, then, excuse us."

"Yes, please," Kyle growled and stood, abruptly leaving the auditorium.

Stan frowned, watching the Jew leave. Kenny watched him, too, and hid a smile. Kyle was so easy to see through.

"I wonder what's wrong?" Bebe asked.

"Me too," Stan whispered.

Okay, so it was easy for _Kenny_ to see, but then, he could always pick up on tension. Around 5th grade, he had gotten tired of dying from Kyle-Cartman fights, so he'd learned how to read people so he could avoid tension. So far, it had successfully saved his life 56 times. Kenny grinned a little wider and looked at the confused and hurt brunet.

"Go follow him dude. He needs a bro," Kenny whispered.

Stan blinked at him, but nodded and followed the red-headed Jew. Bebe frowned, watching Stan go and sighed.

"K…Kenny?" she asked meekly.

He looked at her.

"Why are these conversations never for me?"

Kenny looked into her broken blue eyes and he gasped.

In them, for whatever reason, he saw Kenny McCormick staring back at him. He frowned, sat next to Bebe and patted her shoulder.

"Like I said, there's something we're all going through right now, and none of us know how to deal with it. Well, _I_ know how to deal with it, but the other guys are clueless."

Bebe nodded, "I know, but…but why does it always feel like I'm the extra luggage?"

Kenny smiled weakly. "You'll grow out of that feeling. I promise."

Bebe looked at the blond with a small smile.

"You think so?"

"Undoubtedly," he said, pronouncing the word very incorrectly.

Bebe chuckled and watched the remaining auditions. "How did you end up being so wise, Kenny?"

Kenny shrugged, smiling. "Dying does that to a man."

* * *

Kyle had stormed outside and seemed like he was very intent on leaving when Stan had managed to catch the shorter boy's shoulder.

"Kyle! Kyle, c'mon! Talk to me!" Stan pleaded.

Kyle, very resolute in his course of direction, shrugged Stan's hand off and continued power-walking.

Stan, finally losing his patient temper, grit his teeth and grabbed the other boy's wrist, forcing the Jew to turn around at look at him. Kyle's green eyes were just as passionately angry.

"What, Marsh?"

"What the hell, man? What's wrong with you?"

"Me? What's wrong with you! You fucking lied!"

"Huh? 'The hell are you talking about?"

"You said you didn't love Kenny!"

"I don't!"

"Then why were you all over him a few seconds ago?"

"It was a fucking joke!"

"You've never joked with Kenny like that before!"

"You know, Kyle; a love confession tends to make two bros a little closer in terms of friendship. Excuse me for being more open with him!"

"How does a love confession make two _bros_ closer!"

"Because he's my bro! I don't wanna lose him over something as stupid as being a dick to him just because he loves me!"

"You're encouraging him!"

"No, I'm not! He knows how I feel! What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me is that _I_ don't know how you feel!"

Both boys panted heavily after their small screaming match. Slowly, the anger started seeping out of Stan and he frowned. Kyle regained his breath and looked away.

"I…?"

Kyle sighed. "Look, you told me you didn't love Kenny and just wanted to be friends with him, but then you pull this and it leaves me wondering how much of what you told me was true and how much of it was a lie to placate me."

"Why would I…? I mean, placate you?"

"We just started hanging out again, Stan. As actual, real, super best bro friends; I didn't want to let go of that so soon. I know it's selfish, but I already have Bebe and suddenly spending less time with her would make her break up with me. But I don't want to lose you either. If you got into a relationship with someone, you'd have less time for me, and…"

Stan stared at his suddenly less confident friend. He stared at the green eyes that refused to look into his own. He stared at the bottom lip that the Jew's teeth chewed on. He stared at the hands that awkwardly stayed put at the red-head's side. And Stan started laughing.

Kyle blinked, confused, and looked at the quarterback.

"Stan?"

Stan finally calmed down and grabbed Kyle's hand. He dragged the other to the tree that was starting to become family. Stan pulled out his phone and fiddled with it for a few moments; Kyle stared at him and was thrown for a loop when "Something About Us" began to play.

"Wha—?"

Stan, instead, smiled and held out his hand expectantly to the Jew. Kyle stared at the hand, then at Stan, then back at the hand. He chuckled and shook his head, taking the hand, and Stan pulled him into a slow dance.

"Stan?" Kyle muttered.

"Yeah?"

"People will think we're gay."

Stan grinned, "They already think that. Besides…this is practice."

Kyle chuckled. "Now?"

"Yes, now."

"Why were you laughing?"

"Because you're the dumbest Jew I've ever known."

Kyle pulled back to protest, but his lips were captured in a kiss. He furrowed his eyebrows, but offered no other protest. Finally, Stan pulled away and rested his forehead against Kyle's, smiling gently. Kyle smiled back and laughed.

"You're right. I'm a pretty dumb Jew."

Stan grinned. "A credit to your people."

"Bet I can't even do math."

"Just kill yourself at that point."

"Stan...would you die with me?"

Kyle's large green eyes stared into Stan's blue irises.

"Who do you think made the kool-aid for us to drink?" he replied without hesitation, quite seriously.

"_Stan will always be there for you, because you're fags. I don't know how, but I know he's determined to prove that and—more than likely—probably already has."_

Kyle let out a loud laugh, and Stan didn't believe there was anything in the world that sounded more beautiful.

* * *

Welp. I was going to do more, but I think I'll save that for another chapter. Right now, I need to make dinner.


	10. Dealing with Fags

The fanart I promised is up and on my profile. It's called "Stylish." Enable popups.

* * *

"Stan…would you die with me?"

Kyle's large green eyes stared into Stan's blue irises.

"Who do you think made the kool-aid for us to drink?" he replied without hesitation, quite seriously.

"_Stan will always be there for you, because you're fags. I don't know how, but I know he's determined to prove that and—more than likely—probably already has."_

Kyle let out a loud laugh, and Stan didn't believe there was anything in the world that sounded more beautiful.

* * *

Stan and Kyle walked back into the auditorium once their dance ended and sat down in their respective seats. Bebe smiled lightly at Kyle, kissing the Jew's cheek. Kenny noticed the self satisfied smile on the brunet's face and shook his head, smiling.

"Kissed the girl?" Kenny asked, smirking.

"Oh, you bet. I didn't need a crab to tell me what to do."

"I'm sure that red-head was totally worth it."

"Better believe it."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Are you guys seriously alluding that I'm Ariel from the Little Mermaid?"

Kenny nodded, laughing. Stan joined him and Kyle shook his head, grinning.

"Wait, what?" Bebe asked, confused. "You kissed Kyle?"

Kyle blinked. "Of course he did. Bebe, we're trying out for two very homosexual men here. Our kissing scenes have to be convincing."

Bebe frowned shortly before she laughed—though it sounded fake—and nodded. "Right, right. I forgot about that, somehow."

Stan frowned. "Bebe, if this is making you uncomfortable…"

Bebe stopped laughing and sighed. She was about to tell them how it made her _very_ uncomfortable. She wasn't homophobic, but she _was_ dating Kyle. Bebe frowned as a new theory formed in her head. Maybe…maybe _she_ wasn't the problem. Bebe looked at Stan's innocent face. Maybe he was _stealing_ Kyle from her. Maybe there was more to this "bro problem" than she was being allowed to know. Her eyebrows began to furrow as anger gleamed in her eyes, but then she looked straight in Stan's blue irises.

Worry.

She realized how full of worry they were. She looked at Stan with a clearer mind. She _saw_ how innocent his face looked. Bebe sighed again and smiled a bit. She was obviously overreacting. Men were allowed to have their problems, just like women were. She was clearly being jealous. Still, the blonde didn't feel comfortable about the kissing scenes. She looked at Kenny who gave her a look that obviously said, "Deal with it for the greater good!"

She sighed again, and the Jew's eyebrows furrowed with worry. That was her third sigh.

"Look, Bebe, we won't do it, then," he announced. Stan looked at him in shock, as did Kenny and Bebe.

"No…no, go ahead, Kyle," Bebe grinned. "It's okay. It's not like Stan is trying to steal you away from me."

Stan conveniently looked away from them.

"I trust you, sweetie. Don't worry. I'm just a little insecure right now."

"Heh. I don't see why."

Kyle smiled at her and kissed her, much to Stan's disgust. As Cartman approached, they pulled away, and Stan could not have been happier to see the racist line backer.

"What's happened so far?" he asked.

"Wendy killed the auditions, obviously," Kenny relayed.

"How was the principle's office?" Kyle asked.

Cartman shrugged. "Same as usual. 'I'm sorry, Principal Victoria. How could I have been so foolish?'"

"You know the principal's name isn't Victoria, right?"

"...Maybe that's why he was so mad at me."

Kyle snickered, shaking his head.

"And male auditions?" Cartman asked.

"We will now be auditioning for the parts of Capulet and Montague," Ms. Mercury announced.

"That's our cue," Stan grinned. He held out his hand expectantly to Kyle who laughed and took it. They walked hand in hand to the stage, and Bebe's smile faded just a bit. Kenny put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and she shrugged, smiling at the blond.

"Thanks, Kenny," she sighed.

"Thanks for trusting me," he beamed knowingly. Bebe, confused, raised a brow. She was trusting Kyle, wasn't she? She looked at the blond's smile a little longer and sat back, wondering if maybe Kenny knew more than he let on.

"You know, Kenny," she suddenly said. Kenny looked at her, bemused. "I think you're the smartest one of us all."

Kenny grinned, an arm wrapping around the back of Bebe's chair. "I know."

Stan lined up at the stairs of the stage and turned, waiting to see if anyone was brave enough to take these parts. To his surprise, Craig lined up and scowled directly at the brunet. Butters was also in line, his never-failing habit of knocking his knuckles together ever present. Pip stood in line as well, and Stan frowned. He should've been relieved. None of them compared to Stan's acting, and he and Kyle were so gay, they'd definitely get the parts. But…to be fair…he'd never seen Craig act. And, the way the other boy was looking at him was kind of creepy—like he wanted revenge or something. Stan scowled, trying to think of a time he _ever_ wronged Craig.

And then Craig mouthed the words "Tom Cruise."

Stan gulped.

"So, first, we'll audition for Capulet."

Stan frowned as Craig stormed passed him, practically stuffing a middle finger in Stan's face. Kyle frowned as well and raised an eyebrow. The brunet just shrugged, looking more confident than he felt, and kissed the red-head's forehead.

"I don't know what's up, but whatever," he said. Kyle smiled back at him.

"Read my mind, dude. Break a leg."

Stan nodded and walked onto the stage. Not long after, Pip was beside him. Ms. Mercury smiled and nodded, signaling the auditions. Pip began it and, while not a bad actor, Stan could easily tell he would win over Pip. Next, Craig auditioned.

"What." Cartman gasped.

"The." Bebe frowned.

"Fuck." Kenny finished.

Craig was astounding. Stan's eye twitched in anger as he realized how on-par Craig was with acting. Who the hell fucking knew? Soon, his audition was over—much to Stan's chagrin, the judges were giving him a standing ovation.

"What the hell, Craig?" Stan asked once the other boy was within earshot. "Why are you suddenly so interested in acting?"

"Because of _you_," Craig hissed, "Tom Cruise has been in my closet for almost a week and I can't get him the fuck out. Tweek doesn't want to come over to have sex now because that asshole is in there!"

"Too much information…"

"And, since I can't get to the thing I hold most precious in the world, I'll make sure the same happens to you!"

"What?" Stan deadpanned.

"I'm going to make sure _I_ make out with Kyle on stage instead of you!"

Stan's jaw dropped. "Wh-Why would you do that?"

"Dude, it's so obvious you two are together and are using Bebe so that Kyle looks somewhat straight. No one's falling for it."

Stan couldn't argue, though that wasn't the exact truth.

"So, I'm taking away your faggy little boyfriend!"

"Like fuck you are!" Stan growled.

Craig walked away haughtily and Stan began to follow him, fist raised. A hand on the crook of his elbow stopped him; he faced the smirking Jew, some of his anger fading at the sight of a raised, red eyebrow.

"I'm your faggy boyfriend?"

"Why, yes, you are."

"When did we decide this?"

Stan grinned. "The second you agreed to be Montague."

"Who said I'm on the bottom?"

"The script."

"Stan, you're up!" Ms. Mercury called, and Stan reluctantly walked onto stage without punching Craig in the face; the pat on his rear side from Kyle helped his mood, though. As was expected, Stan's audition was impressive. His inflections were perfect, his expressions—though minute—told volumes of emotions, and his projection was second to none. He smirked at Craig as he, too, received a standing ovation.

"Well, I simply can't decide," Ms. Mercury sighed. "What should we do?"

Mr. Garrison shrugged. "Well, they're supposed to be fags, right?"

"Mr. Garrison, we don't use that language here…"

"So, Capulet has to be a believable fag with whoever Montague is. I say we have the Montague wannabes audition twice—once with Stan, once with Craig—and whichever two boys has the most convincing chemistry will get the parts."

Ms. Mercury gaped at him openly. "Mr. Garrison…as horrible and offensive as your language is, I honestly did not expect you to come up with an actual solution to our problem."

Mr. Garrison scoffed.

"Honey, I know how to deal with fags."

The poor English teacher withheld the urge to take her compliment back. "Well, you heard him. Butters, Kyle, you two will both audition with Craig _and_ Stan, and whoever has the most chemistry and is most convincing will win."

Kenny frowned. He knew Stan and Kyle would win, but something felt wrong. He sighed and looked at Bebe, whose eyes immediately averted themselves away.

Kenny chuckled. "Something interesting on my face?"

"I'm just trying to figure you out. You know all of us…everything about us, and all you have to do is look at us."

"What makes you think that?"

Bebe frowned sadly, "Kenny. You know how all of this is going to end. I don't even know what _this_ is, but you've already planned out everything so that it ends the way it's supposed to be. And, to top that off, you _know_ how it's supposed to end. You're omniscient."

Kenny shrugged. "Point. So, what's troubling you?"

"The fact that you look so troubled yourself. As if you don't know what's going to happen."

Kenny frowned.

"Bebe?"

"Yes?"

"If you were in love with someone…and you were trying to make sure they were happy, even if it meant they weren't with you…would you think it still acceptable to make that person think of you whenever they're with the person they love?"

Bebe smiled wryly. "I think that's a bit selfish, Kenny."

"Because you're making them think of you?"

"Because you're making yourself think of them."

Kenny's gaze rested on Bebe's suddenly wise eyes. "Kenny, if you ever really want to let them go, then you can't hold on to little illusions. You make them promise to think of you, and it makes you think there may be something there when it's nothing more than platonic affection. Kenny…you deserve better."

Kenny stared at Bebe for a while; the stoic expression on the blond made Bebe uncomfortable, but she refused to look away. Finally, Kenny smiled.

"Thanks, Bebe. You're pretty wise yourself. Excuse me."

And with that, Kenny stood up and ran to the stage right as Butters' audition was ending. Bebe watched him run with an eyebrow raised.

"Next time you guys decide to have a faggy conversation," Cartman muttered, "Do you mind doing it away from me?"

Bebe chuckled. "Sorry, Eric."

"Also, I didn't know you were so buddy-buddy with the poor asshole over there."

"I…I don't know." Bebe frowned.

"Do you like him?"

Cartman's question caught Bebe off guard, but even more surprising was that she found herself answering truthfully.

"Not in the way you're thinking. He just…he understands me. And, right now, with Kyle missing half the time and Wendy being all cryptic, that's what I need. He's a good friend…and I think I deserve that. Don't I?"

Cartman stared at the blonde from the corner of his eye and shrugged.

"Whatever, ho. But, I'm going to warn you. Kenny's been hurting for a while. He _finally_ started smiling like the poor asshole I remember. Whatever hurt him is finally subsiding. If anyone needs a friend, it's him. If you so much as hurt a single hair on his head—"

"Why, Eric Cartman," came the high voice of Wendy Testaburger, "Are you actually threatening someone for the sake of a friend?"

Cartman glared at the dark-haired girl as she sat on his other side. "What's it to you, bitch?"

Wendy smiled. "Nothing. It's just…that's exactly what I sounded like when Kyle first asked Bebe out."

Bebe blinked and then her eyes widened. In that one split second, the world—at least the small world in front of her, made of the two most violent, angriest people in the world—made complete and utter sense. And for a second, Bebe wondered if this was what Kenny felt like every day.

She decided it felt nice to be able to see so clearly.

* * *

Right as Kyle began to get on the stage, he felt a tug at his wrist and turned to see Kenny holding him back.

"Let me talk to Stan first."

Kyle, thoroughly confused, just nodded and watched the blond boy run up to the brunet. The judges murmured amongst themselves, wondering if Kenny was auditioning. They watch the boy lean into Stan and whisper something in his ear. As Kenny pulled away, Stan frowned and muttered something, but smiled when Kenny nodded. They hugged each other shortly and Kenny ran back off the stage.

"Kenny?" Kyle asked at the boy passed him.

"Yes?" Kenny turned, smiling.

"What was that?"

"Pep talk. Now it's your turn."

"Yes?"

"Kyle…don't hold back."

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Kyle…don't worry about what you're doing. Don't worry about how confused you are. Concentrate on how warm you are in his arms and how good it feels to be there. Concentrate on your feelings. Trust me."

Kyle frowned and nodded. He watched the blond start to leave, then called him back.

"Kenny!"

"Yeah?" Kenny turned again, hiding the grin that threatened to break onto his face.

"About these…feelings. What if…what about later? What do I do with them after the play?"

Kenny smiled. "I'll tell you when the time comes. Let's worry about that road block when we see it, okay?"

Kyle sighed and nodded.

"Can we please get on with this!" Mr. Garrison demanded. Kyle frantically nodded and went to stand in front of Craig, suddenly feeling much more confident. Kenny ran back to his seat and plopped down beside Bebe once he gave Wendy a high five.

"What did you tell him?" Bebe asked.

Kenny didn't look right at her, and Bebe thought his smile was a little suspicious, but she couldn't help the flutter in her heart when she heard his next words.

"I told him to pretend that Stan was you, and to go with what he felt."

Kyle's first audition with Craig was terrible. Kyle lacked emotion, forgot his lines, and tripped over himself more than once. It was obvious he was not comfortable in Craig's arms and, when the time for the kissing part of the audition came, Kyle immediately pried himself away from Craig and refused.

"Kyle, are you sure you want this part?" Ms. Mercury asked. She was ready to let Butters have the part—though she couldn't quite tell who would be a better Capulet for the shy boy—when Kyle nodded his head.

"I really want this part. Please let me audition again, but with Stan."

Ms. Mercury sighed, as did Mr. Mackey. Neither of the adults noticed the slowly growing smile on Garrison's lips.

"I don't know, Kyle…" she replied.

"Let him do it," Garrison piped.

"What?" Mackey asked, then whispered, "After _that_ horrific audition?"

"Just trust me on this," Garrison insisted, and Mercury allowed it.

"One more thing," Kyle began. The teachers looked at him expectantly. "Can we audition with regular language?"

Mercury looked at the other two judges who shrugged and nodded. She smiled at the Jew and nodded as well.

Kyle returned the gesture and stood in front of Stan. He was determined to listen to Kenny. With a deep sigh, and a deep stare into blue eyes, Kyle was lost at sea.

His only companion was one Stan Marsh.

Mercury's jaw slowly fell lower and lower at the dramatic change in Kyle's acting. Why, he was as good as Stan! She could've _sworn_ the love in Kyle's eyes was real. Not only that, Kyle's acting drastically improved Stan's acting—as if it could get any better—and the two were literally magic on the stage. Mercury found herself on the edge of her seat by the time the boys reached the kissing scene.

"Montague…I don't care what my father says! I don't care about what _God_ says! I…I love you," Capulet whispered hotly into the red-headed prince's ear.

"Oh, Capulet, I don't care either! Oh, Capulet, why must you have your name? Forget about your father and change it. Or else, if you won't change your name, just swear you love me and I'll stop being a Montague!"

It seemed the whole auditorium leaned in as the two boys edged their lips closer.

"For you…Anything for you…"

And the world ended with "you."

* * *

Girls squealed in delight, men blushed and hid their erections, and Ms. Mercury could not believe what she was witnessing. Before her was the most realistic show of two forbidden lovers admitting how they felt and the most realistic follow-up kiss. And they were still at it—kissing as though no one was even watching. Finally—_finally_—she breathed again.

Capulet, or rather Stan, pulled away from the other, leaning his forehead against his lover's. Montague—wait, no—Kyle smiled back at him, green eyes staring intensely into the brunet's eyes.

"St—" Kyle whispered, and caught himself, "Capulet…this may end badly. We may not live to see tomorrow. I love you so much…but I need proof that you love me."

"Anything, K—Montague! Name anything, and I will do it without fail."

"Capulet…would you die with me?" Kyle asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

Stan smiled back at him, placing a soft kiss on the Jew's lips.

"Who do you think poisoned the ale for us to drink?"

Everyone was completely taken in, Cartman noticed. He looked to his side, though, and saw that Wendy was smiling.

"Why so happy, bitch?" he muttered.

"That last part?" she whispered, "That wasn't in the script."

Cartman scoffed. "I keep telling all of you. They're _fags_. They have to find _some_ way to prove they love each other."

Wendy smiling slyly. "Don't you mean, imply that they hump each others' brains out every night?"

Cartman stared at her stoically, then let out a short laugh.

"Get the fuck out of my head, Testaburger."

"Fuck you, fatass," she replied, "I knocked first."

He chuckled darkly and Bebe couldn't tear her eyes away from them. She completely ignored her boyfriend and Stan, and even Kenny a little, just so she could continue knowing what it felt like to see. She smiled slowly and cleared her throat.

"So, Wendy, you broke things off with Token, right?" she quipped.

Wendy blinked and nodded. "Yeah, we've been over this."

"Why, again?"

Wendy sighed and sat back, immediately annoyed at herself for ever dating him. "He was so inattentive! All he cared about was football and looking good. The second he said that he would rather be dating you because you're hotter, I dumped his ass. Now he's dating Red, the asshole."

Cartman scoffed. "What an idiot."

"I know, right?" Wendy pouted.

"Red's a fucking idiot."

"Excuse me?" Red screeched, distracting the two actors on stage and effectively ending the spell.

"I said, you're an idiot," Cartman replied easily. "You hit on me just yesterday at the mall."

"What?" Token yelled, standing. "You were hitting on him? But we're going out!"

Red stuttered and the teachers sighed and broke up the fight. Cartman smirked at sat back, satisfied at causing the pain that obviously kept his life-force alive. Wendy, in turn, blinked and smiled at him.

"Wow, Eric. Thanks. Seeing that made me feel just the slightest bit better. Did she really hit on you yesterday?"

Cartman grinned. "I don't even remember. I just said that. She gave herself away."

Wendy laughed her high, bell-voice laugh and Cartman barely found it within himself to not smile. Bebe's smile grew more and more and Kenny, ever vigilant, caught on to what was happening and quickly whispered something in the blonde girl's ear.

Bebe nodded at him, then turned back to Wendy and Cartman.

"Wendy, remember how we were supposed to go out to Shakey's tomorrow?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, she actually has to tutor me in math, so she can't go," Kenny interjected.

Wendy frowned. "Okay, I guess. But, why not ask Kyle for help?"

"He'll be busy with this play," Kenny replied.

"I'm sorry," Bebe apologized, though her face looked far from sorry.

Wendy frowned at her, "You suck."

Kenny gave Cartman a hard stare, which the linebacker did not miss. However, he still turned away from Kenny, keeping his mouth shut. Stan and Kyle returned from the stage, fingers somewhat intertwined, and sat down in their seats. The group sat, quiet and tense, waiting for something—anything—to happen. Finally, Kyle stood and moved in front of Stan pointedly.

"Stan, do you want to go on a date with me?"


	11. The Gay Man

This chapter is dedicated to the following people:

"P3P", YaoiNaru, ohitsyou, SCBunnyGo, OffiKennyMcCormick, Darkslayer18, Little Wolf Vamp Hearts Yaoi, LaughingAngelsGibberish, Dirty Little Mind, RedInkMagic, neo-chan, TheTerryPerry, and tmcala.

I apologize if I miswrote your name.

The people mentioned above tend to write reviews that make me smile, and they do so consistently. I appreciate it. When I get an email saying I got a review, I noticed that I started specifically looking for the people listed above. I can't stress how much it means to an author when they get a review and it has as much enthusiasm as you guys give. It really means a lot. Thanks for your reviews.

Thanks to mysticwolf27 for being my beta.

Also, GreyNobody—thank you for your review, because it just spawned a whole new joke for this story.

Of course, a special thank you to the recent reviewers and those I didn't mention. I appreciate your reviews just as much and I wish I could thank each and every one of you individually.

I sincerely apologize for the long time it took to write this chapter. I got caught up with getting my job back, a 1000 word a day challenge, and moving. I'll try to be a little more consistent.

I hope you all enjoyed the fan-art.

* * *

Kenny gave Cartman a hard stare, which the linebacker did not miss. However, he still turned away from Kenny, keeping his mouth shut. Stan and Kyle returned from the stage, fingers somewhat intertwined, and sat down in their seats. The group sat, quiet and tense, waiting for something—anything—to happen. Finally, Kyle stood and moved in front of Stan pointedly.

"Stan, do you want to go on a date with me?"

Stan blinked, then stood and hugged Kyle. "Absolutely. Pick you up at 8?"

Bebe gaped at them and was about to stand up and run away, when Kenny put an astute hand on her shoulder—what part of Kenny wasn't wise? Bebe wondered—and held her in place.

"There." Kyle grinned, looking at Wendy and Cartman. "Is that so hard to do?"

Cartman's eyes widened. He chuckled and looked at a blushing Wendy.

"Ho, I—"

"All boys who wish to audition for Romeo, please line up at the stage now." Mercury announced.

Cartman stopped himself and stood abruptly. He began to walk to the stage and sighed. He stopped, though, when he heard Kyle's voice mention his name.

"Wendy, if Cartman gets the part of Romeo, go out with him."

Wendy giggled. "And if he doesn't?"

"I owe you a box of Cadbury Crème eggs."

Cartman shook his head and continued walking to the stage. As he reached the lineup, where Clyde stood before him, he pointedly ignored the feelings of relief and gratitude bubbling up within him.

"What are you so happy about, fatass?" Clyde asked.

It was then that Cartman realized he forgot to ignore happiness; but, at that point, he figured there wasn't much he could do at that point to get rid of the smile on his face. He just shrugged and leaned against the wall, remembering how good it felt to smile.

Auditions passed easily with the Romeo group, and all the boys returned to their seats. It was clear that Cartman had been working hard on his acting and did very well. The teachers announced that they would decide on the major roles by the next day. They asked all people trying out for minor parts to stay and that all others were excused.

The group of teenagers stood and left, but Garrison demanded for an intermission and the students were told to take a break. Stan lagged behind the others as they left—a hand on his shoulder stopped him, though.

"Hello, Stan," Garrison greeted. "Can I talk to you?"

Stan nodded, waving to Kyle, and followed Garrison to the counselor's office. The brunet frowned to Garrison's back. He hadn't forgotten their short conversation on the day of his and Kyle's date.

"_Stan, can I ask you something?" Garrison had asked._

_Stan just nodded, bemused._

"_Are you finally out of the closet?"_

_Stan sputtered and stood straight, "What?"_

"_Well, it's just that…you're so gay, and it's unhealthy for you to stay in the closet for such a long time. I was just making sure that you were out already."_

Stan wondered if the conversation they were about to have was about the same topic. What was he going to tell Garrison? Could he trust him? Or would Garrison unwittingly reveal Stan's secret? This thought set Stan on a downward spiral. Even if Stan's plan did work, that didn't guarantee that Kyle loved him back. What would he do then? All this planning and scheming and work, to come to what end? How would Kyle react? He knew that, no matter what, he and Kyle would always be friends.

But he still wanted so much more than that. And Stan didn't think that desire for more would ever change.

Finally, the two reached the office, Garrison letting Stan go in first. Stan sat at the almost too-small chair in front of the desk, and Garrison took Mackey's usual place. The man intertwined his fingers together and leaned forward eagerly, a smile on his face.

Stan stared back awkwardly, wondering if Garrison was going to speak. He recalled how Garrison was the reason Kyle got to audition for him and figured he should thank the man for that.

"Uh, thanks, Mr. Garrison."

"For what, Stanley?"

The brunet really didn't like that smile. "F-For, uh, helping Kyle. You know. I really think he and I have a shot."

"Oh, you two are guaranteed. I don't doubt it in the least. I mean, it's actually kind of sad."

"What is?"

"How in love you two fags look up there and how Kyle is still deluded into thinking he's straight."

"…What?"

"Stan," Garrison sighed, "it took me a bit, but now I know why you're in the closet. _You _know you're gay and _you_ know you have a boner for Kyle—"

"Mr. Garrison, I don't enjoy hearing you say words like 'boner,'" Stan pleaded.

"—but Kyle hasn't figured it out and you don't want to scare him away just yet. You think you're perfect for each other and, though you can't predict what will happen, you believe it'll work out fine as long as Kyle loves you back. Which he does."

"Uh?"

"So, what are you scheming? I know it was Wendy who rewrote the play, so you must have influenced her to help you out somehow."

Stan worried his lower lip. What should he do? Tell Garrison everything and trust the man with his biggest secret? Or should he lie like he has to Kyle all this time? Stan sighed, confident in his acting, and decided on the latter. There was no way he was going to risk his future marriage with Kyle just because Garrison let the cat out of the bag too soon. He would just have to lie to Garrison and apologize later, once Kyle was safely in Stan's bed.

"And don't try lying to me, Stanley Marsh. I can see right through you. You're gay. That means I can read your mind, faggot," Garrison smirked.

Stan, left speechless, threw his head back and let out a silent scream. _Of course_, with all the weird shit that happens in South Park, Garrison can somehow read other gay men's minds.

Figures.

"All right, all right; I am completely, one hundred percent, head-over-heels, Lady Gaga in love with Kyle. He is my everything. I write all my poetry to him and dream about him every night. One day, about a week ago, I got fed up with Kyle not being in love with me, so I decided to buy him flowers. That's when I met Flora…"

* * *

Wendy sighed, leaning against the wall of the school. She glanced at the people surrounding her; Kenny, Bebe, Kyle, and Eric. For whatever reason, Stan had been called away by Garrison and now they were stuck outside waiting for him. Eric tried suggesting that they all go eat at Shakey's, but Kyle wouldn't hear of it and forced everyone to stay. Wendy would have refuted, but Kyle could get scary when it involved Stan.

She shivered as she recalled the game wherein another football player blitzed Stan and broke the brunet's arm; in ten seconds flat, Kyle was on the field— in "Jersey" mode, no less—and broke both arms of the poor unsuspecting, unnamed teenager. Wendy shivered again.

She decided not to dwell on the evil "Jersey Kyle" could inflict and stared at her latest fixation—Eric Cartman. After all the years of animosity, childishness, and murders, Cartman joined football and calmed down. It seemed that losing the weight and getting to pummel other players was good therapy for the boy. Still, he was devious in debate team and Mock-trial. He forged evidence, badgered witnesses, and bribed everyone in an effort to get the win—he even knew that there was no real trial to win.

But there was more to Eric Cartman and Wendy could sense that. She could see it when he would scoff at her when he caught her crying and threw her a napkin, telling her to clean herself up before anyone else—like Token—saw her crying. She could see it when he would berate his friends before they got swindled. She definitely saw it when Eric threatened bodily harm to her best friend just to protect Kenny. Maybe it was always a roundabout way, but Eric looked out for his own…and sometimes Wendy herself.

She didn't understand at first, but soon it dawned on her. And, to be honest, she wasn't going to have it. She had fully intended on approaching him to tell him that she wasn't interested, but she happened to catch Eric pushing Token up to the lockers menacingly and warning the black boy not to cheat on her, or there would be hell to pay; hell that he outlined with a few charts and a special guest, Scott Tenorman. She was deeply touched and decided to give the boy a chance at her friendship.

Wendy didn't know exactly when it happened, but one day, she started to like Eric back. Of course, she was much too proud to ask him out and it started to look like Eric was the same way. Either way, she immediately broke up with Token—he honestly was a somewhat nice guy, just a bit inattentive and a bit too appreciative of her best friend—and set into motion a plan to win Eric over where no one would actually have to ask.

It was, as expected, harder than translating regular English to Shakespearian English.

So, Wendy sighed, staring longingly at the one boy who she probably should never even consider. She smiled at Kyle, happy he gave her the opportunity to date Eric. Now all that needed to happen was that Eric won. She glanced at the door once more, unnerved by the awkward silence that befell them.

"Guys, I'm gonna go see Ms. Mercury, okay?" the brunette said.

Kyle, Kenny, and Bebe nodded. Cartman raised an eyebrow, but shrugged and allowed her to go. He tried to hide it, but Kenny noticed the way Cartman's eyes followed Wendy.

"Be sure to be back before the fag gets here, ho," he called to her.

She merely smiled over her shoulder and saluted.

"Wow, Cartman, you have it bad."

Cartman's eye twitched and he turned to glare at Kyle. "Shut up, heeb."

Kyle merely chuckled. "Sure, fatass."

Kenny grinned, "Just admit it. It'll be easier on all of us if you do."

Cartman grimaced and glanced at Bebe. He sighed and turned around and faced away from them, thus signaling that the conversation was over. Kyle and Kenny rolled their eyes and engaged each other in conversation. Bebe glanced at Kyle thoughtfully, then sighed and leaned into the redhead. She decided to take a page from the pensive line-backer—obviously, she needed to do her own thinking.

There was one thing she needed to be sure of, though. "Kyle?"

"Yeah, babe?" Kyle smiled down at her.

She weakly smiled back, "Did you really mean to ask Stan out on a date?"

Kyle blinked and laughed. "No, Bebe. I was just setting an example for Cartman and Wendy."

"So," she bit her lip, "why didn't you ask me?"

"Well, it would hardly make sense," Kyle reasoned, "We're already dating. They'd just take it as another one of our usual dates. I had to ask someone who I'm not dating."

"Why not Kenny?" Bebe persisted.

Kyle raised an eyebrow and his eyes narrowed, but his tone stayed patient. "Stan's my best friend, Bebe. If we're talking 'high school drama' bullshit, then obviously, Stan makes more sense than Kenny. Also, we're all pretty aware that Kenny isn't interested in me romantically—"

"Though I am quite interested sexually," Kenny chuckled.

"—and thus would probably reject me. Why is this so important to you?"

"N...No reason. I was just wondering," Bebe responded quietly. Kyle continued to stare at her suspiciously, but didn't question further. With a sigh he couldn't suppress, he turned back to Kenny and continued talking about his last visit to Israel.

When Kyle finished recounting his story about how he and his family narrowly escaped terrorists that wanted to kill them because they thought Kyle was responsible for stealing their cell-phone minutes—in actuality, they had discovered texting and didn't realize it cost so much and were thus extremely jealous of Kyle's non pre-paid plan.

Kenny chuckled, no longer surprised that weird shit followed them. He rationalized it with the fact that they were all unfortunately born in South Park. The blond, however, was not as willing as Kyle to drop the subject at hand.

"Cartman, it's not that complicated. Just ask her out."

Cartman sighed heavily. "Shut up, you poor asshole."

Kenny frowned and opened his mouth, planning on retorting, but Stan walked out of the building at that moment. The brunet strolled over to the others and smiled weakly.

"How did it go with Garrison?" Kyle asked, eyebrow raised.

"Can we avoid that subject for now?" Stan sighed, "I'm starving. Let's go to Shakey's."

"We have to wait for the ho," Cartman muttered.

"What? It's cool; we'll just text Wendy and meet—"

"_We have to wait for the ho_," the line-backer insisted.

Stan sighed dramatically and threw his hands in the air. Why was everyone so impossible today? To be fair, he supposed, they did all wait for him, so it was only right to wait for Wendy. With a pout, he looked pleadingly over at Kyle who chuckled and shook his head. Immediately understanding what the other boy wanted, Kyle pecked Bebe on the cheek, sat down on the ground against the wall, and motioned Stan over. With a small smile, Stan ambled over, collapsed on the floor, and rested his head on the red-head's lap.

"But, seriously, about that date?" the brunet began, then joined Kenny and Kyle in laughter.

Bebe sighed. Normally, she would laugh along with them, sure it was a joke; recently, though, she was starting to feel more and more anxious about the way Stan looked at Kyle. It just looked so _familiar_. Just as she was about to question how Stan really felt, Cartman began to chuckle.

"What's up, fatass?" Kyle asked.

"Shut up, Jew-rat. I've got the beginnings of a plan in my head; a plan that will get me ten thousand dollars…"

"As long as it's not the boy band idea, again," Kyle muttered.

Kenny snickered. "Can't believe you guys didn't know what 'finger-bang' meant."

"Whatever." Stan rolled his eyes, "Cartman, don't forget to get the liquor today for the party."

Cartman shrugged, "Oh, right. I guess I _should_ pay Scott a visit. I _am _running low on tears."

"Cartman, sometimes I think that the reason you stopped being fat is because you realized that tears are better sustenance for you than food," Kyle retorted.

"Excuse me for liking the taste of sadness, Jew boy," Cartman glared, "And I'm still working on bringing about my final solution, so don't get too comfortable."

"I don't think you could kill Kyle," Wendy laughed as she walked outside, "Then you'd have no one to torment and you'd feel incomplete."

Cartman refused to reply—he hadn't forgotten how he saved Kyle and his family from the smug storm, because Butters just couldn't retaliate the way Kyle could when he ripped on the blond boy—and chose instead to hold his middle finger up high.

"Let's just go to Shakey's already."

Wendy just laughed again.

* * *

After Shakey's, they all agreed that they should go home to get ready for the party. Wendy and Bebe had failed to find something Bebe really liked for the party—or so Wendy was left to believe. So, as the two girls approached the mall, Bebe turned to Wendy suddenly and put her hands on the brunette's shoulders desperately.

"Wendy," she frowned, "I need an outfit that'll get Kyle interested in me again!"

Wendy blinked and tried to hide what she was really feeling. How was she supposed to tell her best friend she was actually trying to break them up so that Kyle would be gay with Stan? Bebe would never forgive her. Instead, she smiled and nodded.

"All right, we'll find the best outfit ever! Besides, I actually need to talk to you."

Bebe smiled in relief, let go of her friend, and walked side by side with Wendy into the mall, hopeful that her best friend would help.

"So, what is it you need to talk to me about?" she asked once they entered Stupid, Spoiled Whore.

"For one, why haven't they closed this store yet?" Wendy scowled.

Bebe shrugged. "Recent trends in womanly behavior show that we're all stupid, spoiled whores. As such, Paris Hilton has seen a rise in popularity."

Wendy rolled her eyes. "Anyway, it's…well…I…oh, I can't believe I'm going to say this…"

"You like Eric Cartman?" Bebe smirked.

Wendy blushed heavily before sighing and nodding. "Yes. Yes, I like Eric Cartman."

Bebe smiled. "Why's that so bad? It's obvious he likes you back."

Wendy smiled back weakly, "Well, yeah, but still. He hasn't asked me out or anything and I doubt he ever will."

"Well, if Kyle wins the bet…"

"Yeah, I'm really hoping he wins this bet," Wendy giggled. "For one, I hate Cadbury Eggs."

Bebe laughed along with her and decided to focus on enjoying her mall time with her best friend.

Meanwhile, Stan smiled at the blonde at the counter as he entered the flower shop. Flora waved at him and grinned back at him.

"So, how's it going, Stan?"

"It goes well. The party is tomorrow night, Cartman is getting the alcohol, Kenny and I are great friends, and Kyle will be in my bed in no time."

"What about Bebe?"

Stan frowned. He tried not to think about her. He noticed how Bebe seemed to be more and more disappointed with all the time he was spending with Kyle. Kyle was smart, but Bebe wasn't one to be underestimated—and she was one to be cautious with. Lately, Stan hadn't been very careful about hiding his affections towards the red-head, and he was starting to think that Bebe was getting suspicious. He had hoped that somehow Bebe would be okay after their break up and would be okay with Stan being with Kyle, but it was starting to look like there was no such thing as a relationship that ended well.

Flora noted Stan's sudden silence and frowned. "Not good, huh?"

Stan sighed. "I don't want Bebe to be hurt after this. She's a great person."

Flora nodded. "Well, what else has happened?"

"Oh! Well, Wendy and Cartman really like each other and I think that'll happen soon. I'm glad for them, but I'm a bit jealous."

"Why's that?"

"Well, for them, it's as easy as liking each other. Even though Wendy said she couldn't imagine being with someone from South Park, it's so obvious that she likes Cartman a lot. And Cartman, in his own sick way, really likes Wendy." He rolled his eyes, "He made me promise not to tell anyone, but when I was in his house yesterday to get my game controller, I found him out in his backyard having a tea party with a cardboard cutout of Wendy; he then proceeded to make out with said cutout."

Flora laughed heartily. Stan chuckled and shook his head.

"Well, I'm glad it's working out for those two. Now then, there's really nothing you can do about Bebe," the blonde woman frowned sympathetically, "Sometimes things have to fall apart to make way for better things."

Stan frowned doubtfully, "But how do I know that Kyle and me being together is better than Kyle and Bebe being together?"

Flora smiled. "Well, that depends on Kyle. Maybe he doesn't realize it, but I bet that—subconsciously—Kyle already knows who he loves and wants to be with. He'll make the decision."

Stan sighed. "I just hope that decision is me."

Flora smiled, sad that her smile was all she could offer.

"I wish that were the worst part of today," he sighed.

"Why?"

"Garrison talked to me. He got me to spill everything."

Flora frowned. "That's unfortunate. How'd he do that?"

"He told me that because I was gay, he could read my mind."

"Wow, really? I didn't know he could," Flora muttered.

Stan's eyes narrowed.

* * *

"_And, now we're having a party tomorrow, which is where I hope they break up," Stan finished._

_Garrison nodded, almost understandingly, and stood. "Well, your secret is safe with me, Stan. Go ahead and hang out with your friends."_

_Stan smiled and stood. Just as he reached the door, though, Garrison ruined his good mood._

"_By the way, Stan," Garrison chuckled, "I can't really read your mind. Being gay once myself doesn't entitle me to supernatural powers, you stupid fag."_

_Stan let out another silent scream._

* * *

"Wow…that is…he's good," Flora decided.

Stan scowled and glared at the wall. "Hate that asshole."

"Well, I'm sure your day will get better somehow," Flora smiled, trying to cheer him up.

Stan smiled back, then grinned. "Actually, yeah. I have a date today."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Kyle and I decided to meet up today after all, since the girls were going to the mall again. I'm thinking dinner and a movie."

Flora raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Didn't you just eat at Shakey's?"

"That was lunch. Dinner will be awesome pizza at his place while his parents go out and the movie will be White Chicks. A perfect evening."

Flora rolled her eyes. "Boys."

* * *

After she and Wendy had picked out an outfit that was sure to get Kyle to notice her again, Bebe decided against walking with her friend and headed back home on her own. She smiled contently as she thought of how everything would work out.

As she rounded the corner, she noticed she wasn't far from Kyle's house. She grinned and walked a little faster—she could model the clothes for him and she'd be sure to have Kyle back all to herself. For a split second, she frowned guiltily; she was essentially plotting how to keep Stan away from Kyle. She sighed, slowing in her walk. How could she think of such a thing? They were _best friends_, like her and Wendy. She'd feel terrible if Kyle tried to split her and Wendy up. More than terrible; she'd hate him. She bit her lip and thought about how comfortable she was with Kyle and how much she liked him and, though she felt a little sick, she resolved to continue with this plan. She smiled to herself and picked up her pace.

As she neared the door, Bebe happened to glance in the window and stopped, frozen. She moved closer to the window as she watched Stan and Kyle, facing away from her, laughed as they toasted to something with their pizza. She observed how much livelier Kyle seemed to be and how Stan seemed to feed off that energy—if anything, she noticed, it looked like Stan was happy as long as Kyle was happy. Her pouty lips pulled down in sadness and her eyes widened as she realized what she was going to try and tear apart. When did she become so obsessed with trying to keep Kyle all to herself?

She began to step away from the window when she noticed Kyle stand up. For a second, she panicked and ducked, hoping he wasn't going to the window. She chanced a peek and saw that Kyle, instead, walked to the kitchen. She sighed in relief and watched a little longer, observing Stan's face. The more she watched, the more she realized the emotion that was so obviously present there.

Adoration.

Stan…Stan really was in love with Kyle, wasn't he? Bebe stepped back from the window in shock, gasping quietly. How could she not see it? The way he avoided Kyle in the beginning, then couldn't stop being around him; the way he held onto the red-head a little longer than necessary; the way he glared at her for weeks after she and Kyle had gotten together; the frosty way he would say hello; the bad attitude once she was around; the clinginess; the sadness; the happiness; the everything! The stupid naked sleep over, for Christ's sake!

Bebe took a few more steps back as she realized everything that had happened—the dates, the looks.

The play.

Bebe's eyes widened more as she realized that the play was also part of the ploy. Of course! Why else would it be insisted that there be a gay couple in the play? She fell to her knees as her brain was bombarded with discovery after discovery.

If the play was a part of the plan to take Kyle away from her, then that meant…

That meant that Wendy was also a part of it. She rewrote the play so that Stan could try to win Kyle over. She began to shake as sobs racked her body—even her _best friend_ wanted to take Kyle away from her? To give him to _Stan fucking Marsh_?

She stood shakily, her knuckles turning white as they gripped the bags in her hands, and glared hatefully at the house that had recently caused her so much pain.

Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Wendy Testaburger, Eric Cartman, and…and even Kenny McCormick were all part of some horrible plot to steal Kyle away from her. She grit her teeth in fury, wiping away the tears that lingered on her cheeks. She didn't notice the cold or the pain anymore—just the anger. The unquenchable and suffocating anger that demanded to get even with those that caused her pain. She suddenly sprinted back to her house, tears falling freely onto the snowy pavement, and didn't stop until she was inside her room with the door locked.

She threw her bags into her closet and her coat onto her bed and began pacing around the room as she tried to figure out how she could get back at all of them. Idea after idea was created and discarded—they weren't mean enough, nasty enough, evil enough. She needed something that would destroy them; something that would—!

Bebe suddenly stopped, falling to her knees for the second time that day. What was she doing? What in the world was she thinking, trying to hurt the people she cared for so much? So what if Stan was trying to steal Kyle? If Kyle loved her, he wouldn't be swayed by it. And Kyle obviously thinks they're just friends. What was Stan's crime anyway? All he was at fault for was falling in love with her Kyle and trying to win him over.

Wait…_her_ Kyle? Yes. Yes, _her_ Kyle. That was his crime! That he was trying to steal what was rightfully hers! He should leave well enough alone! Kyle's happy with her, Bebe reasoned, and there's no reason to change that! They're supposed to be together forever! _She's_ the most beautiful girl in school! _She's_ a _girl_! Homosexuals are evil and she wasn't going to lose her boyfriend to some goddamn _faggo—_!

No! Bebe gripped her head, battling fiercely within herself. No! Homosexuals aren't evil! They're people, just like her. Stan's a person; a human; a…friend. Not a fiend, a friend. She began crying quietly.

What was wrong with her? How could she ever think such horrible thoughts? What could do this to her? She sniffed as she realized what caused it—Kyle. She fell to the floor and looked up to the ceiling; the floodgates opened. Abruptly, Bebe began bawling uncontrollably with painful shakes and spasms all over her body. She gripped at her rug and beat her fist to the floor and kicked the bed and threw everything off her desk. Again, she fell to the floor with an anguished cry.

She was in love with Kyle Broflovski.

She didn't just like him or tolerate him or enjoy his company. She was deeply in love with him. Every part of her body ached to be with Kyle for every second of the day. It wasn't anger that was unquenchable and suffocating—it was love. She grabbed her shirt, right above where her heart beat, and felt nothing there. It was only beating when Kyle was around. How could she not see it?

Faintly, she realized why Stan's expression was so familiar—it was the same expression on her face when she was around Kyle. But she just couldn't admit it. She was so afraid of losing Kyle and so afraid of this intense love that she forced herself never to feel it.

It was always there, though, and all she could do was let it out. What could she do now? Bebe wondered. How could she go on without Kyle knowing how in love she was with him? What if he didn't feel the same? She wept more as she realized that she knew exactly what Stan was going through.

But she didn't want to be the bad guy. Bebe sat up, sniffling, resolved that she wasn't the hateful, evil person who wanted to hurt everyone. Horrifying and frightening as it was, she supposed that's what love did to a person. She let out a shuddery breath—she didn't enjoy it long. She inhaled sharply as she heard her window behind her open. She turned quickly, ready to defend herself, before she recognized the familiar silhouette.

"Hey," Kenny smiled weakly, "What's up?"

Bebe didn't reply; she walked over to Kenny and threw herself into his arms, crying into his shoulder. Kenny silently wrapped his arms around her and held her calmly. He amused himself with playing with her bouncy curls until Bebe finally pulled away, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Sorry, Kenny," she whispered.

"It's okay," he assured and sat on her bed, motioning for her to join him. Bebe sighed and sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I know what you're thinking," he unexpectedly whispered, "but I need you to hold off on thinking about that for right now."

Bebe sighed tiredly, resting heavily on Kenny's side. She was about ready to fall asleep. "When should I think about it, then?"

"Tomorrow. Think about it some, then go to the party and have a few drinks, and then talk to Wendy. Trust me, it's for your own good."

Bebe chuckled humorlessly. "If you say so, then it must be true."

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Bebe."

"Kenny?" she asked after a moment. He hummed in the back of his throat in response. "Did you know this was going to happen?"

A few minutes passed and Bebe began to doze off before she heard a rumble in Kenny's chest.

"Yes," he finally said.

Bebe smiled softly, somehow finding that comforting. She fell asleep on Kenny's shoulder and eased into a restful dream. Kenny smiled down at her and shifted her to lie on her bed. He rose and stretched, then began cleaning the mess Bebe had made earlier. Once he was done, he covered the blonde with the blankets and stood back to appreciate his handiwork.

The moon shone on Bebe's skin and softened her already soft features; Kenny was mesmerized for a second before he smiled again. He looked at the locked door and shrugged; he took off his coat, sweater, and shoes and got into the bed with Bebe. The blond boy figured he may as well stay to keep an eye on her.

Besides, it wouldn't hurt to sleep in a comfortable bed for one night.

* * *

Cartman sighed as he approached the grave he swore he'd never come near. He glared down at the flowers that seemed to be growing around the grave and sneered. He wondered who the genius who thought of that was. He awkwardly paced in front of the grave, biting his lip in apprehension. He needed to get something off his chest, but he couldn't quite tell just anyone.

Then he recalled how Stan and the Jew had come here and gotten their worries off their chests—it had worked for Kyle, it seemed. Cartman could see the guilt ebbing away.

So he decided he would break his swear and visit the grave. At least once, he supposed, wouldn't make too much of a difference in a lifetime.

"H…Hey, Chef," he finally muttered.

"_Hello there, children. What brings you here, Eric?_" the wind seemed to whisper to him. He shrugged, unfazed—this _was_ South Park, after all—and turned to look at the grave.

"I…I need to tell you something."

"_Please tell me it's not that I'm your father."_

"No, it's not, goddammit!" Cartman yelled. He glared at the onlookers whose attention he'd captured and turned back to the grave. "It's something else."

"_Well, what is it boy? I'm here to listen to you."_

"I'm in love with Wendy Testaburger."

"_Is that all? I've known that since third grade, Eric."_

"How the hell did you know?" Cartman growled.

"_For the love of…Eric, you picked on her so much, I'm surprised _Stan _didn't kick your ass for hitting on her."_

Cartman's eye twitched. "What?"

"_What I'm trying to say, children, is that it was so painfully obvious, we were surprised you didn't ask her out sooner."_

Cartman frowned pensively, taking in this information.

"So…So do you think Wendy already knows how I feel?"

"_I'm pretty sure, Eric."_

Cartman blinked then shook his head.

"Then what the hell am I doing hanging around a dead guy? I'm gonna go tell that ho to be my bitch and get her ass in the kitchen!"

"_You better bring flowers, Eric. And pillows."_

Cartman raised an eyebrow. "Why pillows?"

"_To soften to blows when she kicks your ass."_

The brunet huffed and turned away from the laughing, windy voice as he walked towards the flower shop.

"_By the way, Eric," _the wind suddenly said, _"I'm sorry I left you children. I didn't mean to break my promise. I hope you can forgive me."_

Cartman was suddenly reminded of how easy it used to be for him to cry. He harshly bit on his lower lip, willing himself not to. When the ball his throat went away, he sniffed and smiled gently.

"I forgive you. See you later, Chef." Cartman strolled away from the gravesite, feeling less bitter than when he came. He supposed some promises were meant to be broken.

And, to be fair, Chef technically didn't break his promise…and Cartman was nothing if not a man of technicalities. The entire walk to the flower shop was quiet and pleasant and Cartman was slightly displeased to realize that the pleasantness wasn't enhanced by someone's suffering. Briefly, he considered visiting the Jew, but Kyle was probably sucking face with either the blonde ho or the animal-loving fag. With an excited grin, though, he recalled that he had to go pick up the alcohol for Stan's party. With a small skip, he walked over to the Tenorman Liquor Store, pleased that he had remembered to bring his jar.

* * *

Stan kept glancing at the window, a little worried; Kyle had noticed the brunet doing this about three hours ago and was finally fed up with it.

"Are you ashamed to be with me?" Kyle smirked.

Stan blinked out of his stupor then grinned and shook his head. "Nah, baby. You know I love you."

"Prove it," Kyle challenged. He gave a small shriek of surprised as Stan suddenly picked Kyle up and put the red-head on his lap. Kyle gave Stan a shrewd look and wrapped his arms around the brunet's shoulders.

"Oh, baby," he muttered sarcastically, with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Stan laughed and pecked the Jew's forehead. "Sorry, Kyle. I just…I could've sworn I saw Bebe outside. She didn't look happy."

Kyle frowned. Bebe had seen them hanging out before, but—to be fair—she had been acting strange as of late. Still, he hadn't seen Bebe and Stan obviously hadn't seen her in the last three hours. So, with a very obvious roll of the eyes, he signaled that Stan's paranoia was ludicrous and settled himself in Stan's lap comfortably.

The two boys sat back; while Kyle watched the movie, which happened to be The Little Mermaid, Stan watched Kyle's face and smiled happily to himself. He really didn't want to hurt Bebe—and maybe that's why he thought he saw her—but there was no doubt in his mind that he and Kyle were meant to be.

"Kyle, I think we're soul-mates."

"Well, obviously," Kyle scoffed, "I thought we established that ages ago."

Stan grinned, "Just reminding you. Sometimes I forget if we're gay or not."

"Heh," Kyle chuckled, "I think Bebe answers that question."

Stan rolled his eyes. "You're such a fag, dude. Bebe proves nothing. She's your beard."

Kyle laughed loudly and Stan silently worshipped the sound. "Well, in that case, I'd say she's pretty convincing."

Stan smiled as he remembered Craig's words and shook his head. "Sure she is, dude."

Kyle gave Stan a coy smile and elbowed him gently in the ribs. He leaned against the other boy as Sebastian began to sing to Prince Eric.

"Sha-la-la-la-la-la, don't be scared. You got the mood prepared; go on and kiss the girl," Stan sang along. Kyle's shoulders shook in light laughter.

"By the way," Kyle turned around in Stan's lap, doing horrible things to the brunet's libido, "What _did_ Garrison talk to you about?"

Stan frowned and was about to avoid the subject again, but the crab on the TV was rather convincing and this was a very good opportunity. For a moment, he felt guilty about taking advantage of the poor Jew, but those lips were begging to be abused. So, confident his acting would work on Kyle, he sighed dramatically.

"He said we did well acting, but our kissing scene almost made them reconsider Butters."

Kyle frowned, "Does that mean we need more practice making our kisses more realistic?"

"_Sha-la-la-la-la-la  
Music play  
Do what the music say  
You wanna kiss the girl."_

Stan nodded and grinned, "Good thing we're soul-mates."

"_You've got to kiss the girl."_

Kyle just chuckled and shook his head. "Just shut up and do what the damn crab says."

"_Why don't you kiss the girl."_

Stan smiled again. "Happy to oblige." Kyle rolled his eyes before his lids slid shut and he moved closer to the brunet, arms wound around Stan's neck. Stan put a hand on the back of Kyle's neck, to hold the Jew there when their lips met; his eyes closed slowly as well—he was in no rush. He fully intended on memorizing the way Kyle looked when they kissed in the event that it never happened again.

"_You gotta kiss the girl."_

Eventually, their lips met in a sweet kiss and it took everything within Stan to not throw all his emotions into it. He was pleased to see that Kyle was finally comfortable with them kissing. Kyle even brought himself closer to the brunet and, though that made Stan very happy, he really hope Kyle wouldn't notice Stan Jr. getting excited. They pulled away slowly and stared into each others' eyes, realizing that the kiss was only a few seconds.

"Wow," Stan muttered, "Fuck yeah, Hipster Ariel, _indeed_."

"_Go on and kiss the girl!"_

Kyle merely smiled back, eyes half-lidded, and kissed Stan again.

* * *

Well, this is the longest chapter I've ever written and it will probably stay that way. It was pretty agonizing trying to figure out a way to include everything I wanted to include for this chapter, but consider this my apology for making you wait so long.


	12. Wonderwall

I just want to get this off my chest. I hate filler chapters. They piss me off. It's a whole chapter wasted on asinine chatter and descriptions. The story doesn't move along; it just stays frozen in time and teases readers. I really fucking hate filler. And this is why this chapter is so long. If I leave it where I want to leave it, this chapter becomes filler and doesn't actually move the story along and I refuse to do that. Also, music is playing an increasingly large role in these chapters.

Again, thanks to majesticwolf27 for being my beta. I don't know why I thought her name was "mysticwolf." I probably should've checked that. :P So, apologies for getting the name wrong last chapter.

* * *

Stan smiled again. "Happy to oblige." Kyle rolled his eyes before his lids slid shut and he moved closer to the brunet, arms wound around Stan's neck. Stan put a hand on the back of Kyle's neck, to hold the Jew there when their lips met; his eyes closed slowly as well—he was in no rush. He fully intended on memorizing the way Kyle looked when they kissed in the event that it never happened again.

"_You gotta kiss the girl."_

Eventually, their lips met in a sweet kiss and it took everything within Stan to not throw all his emotions into it. They pulled away slowly and stared into each others' eyes, realizing that the kiss was only a few seconds.

"Wow," Stan muttered, "Fuck yeah, Hipster Ariel, _indeed_."

"_Go on and kiss the girl!"_

Kyle merely smiled back, eyes half-lidded, and kissed Stan again.

* * *

Bebe Stevens groaned as the sunlight hit her eyes and she realized she could no longer stay in bed without possibly going back to bed-wetting. She sighed, opening her eyes, and looked at her window. For a moment, she was shocked to see Kenny in her bed with his shirt off, but she looked under the covers and confirmed nothing had happened. She looked at the blond boy again and smiled softly to herself. For a fleeting moment, Bebe felt at peace; her moment didn't last as memories of the prior evening flooded her mind. She gasped, gripping her shirt right where her heart was and was sad to see that nothing was beating.

"_Today is gonna be the day _

_That they're gonna throw it back to you. _

_By now you should've somehow _

_Realized what you gotta do. _

_I don't believe that anybody _

_Feels the way I do about you now."_

Bebe frowned. She looked at her desk, where everything was once again neatly organized. She glanced again at the sleeping boy in her bed and wondered if he really took the time to clean her room, or if she just imagined herself going on a rampage. Her eyebrows furrowed as her gaze narrowed onto her radio—when did she turn that on? Or did Kenny do that?

"What's the story, morning glory?" the blonde heard and she turned to see Kenny smiling up at her. She smiled back.

"Did you clean up my room? Or did I imagine everything?" she asked.

"You totally went bat-shit crazy yesterday; not that I blame you. But yeah, I cleaned up."

"_Because, maybe, _

_You're gonna be the one who saves me? _

_And after all, _

_You're my wonderwall."_

Bebe glanced at the radio. "Was that you, too?"

Kenny nodded.

"I didn't know the station I had it on played Oasis," she mumbled.

"They don't," Kenny answered, "I just figured you'd like it."

Bebe looked at Kenny, surprised. "How'd you know I liked Oasis?"

"Because they're your favorite, right?" Kenny grinned.

Bebe nodded slowly. "I…Kenny? Just how all-knowing are you?"

Kenny laughed and Bebe found that she quite liked the sound. "Don't give me all the credit. Kyle told me."

Kyle—and suddenly, Bebe remembered why she went on her "rampage.". She let out a shuddering sigh and looked away from Kenny. What kind of monster had she become last night? How could she think such horrible things about Stan? Love shouldn't turn her into _that_! She was worse than Cartman! Tears escaped her closed eyes and her teeth bit down harshly on her bottom lip; she felt arms envelop her and she buried herself into Kenny's bare chest unabashedly.

"It's okay to have those thoughts," Kenny whispered, "You're not crazy or evil for thinking that. Someone is trying to steal the man you love. It's only natural."

"Would you have thought the same?" Bebe whimpered.

Kenny chuckled, "I went through that, yeah. When Kyle and Stan started hanging out again."

"How did you get over it?"

Kenny hummed pensively then shrugged, "You."

Bebe pulled away and sat up. "Me?"

"Yep," Kenny nodded and sat up as well, absently scratching his chest. "You were the one who told me it was selfish to make myself think of him."

Bebe's eyes widened, remembering how just the day before, Kenny asked her his seemingly innocent question.

"_Bebe?"_

"_Yes?"_

"_If you were in love with someone…and you were trying to make sure they were happy, even if it meant they weren't with you…would you think it still acceptable to make that person think of you whenever they're with the person they love?"_

_She smiled at him, eyebrow raised. "I think that's a bit selfish, Kenny."_

"_Because you're making them think of you?"_

"_Because you're making yourself think of them."_

_Kenny's eyes pierced hers. "Kenny, if you ever really want to let them go, then you can't hold on to little illusions. You make them promise to think of you, and it makes you think there may be something there when it's nothing more than platonic affection. Kenny…you deserve better."_

_Kenny had stared at her for a while; the stoic expression on the blond made Bebe feel self-conscious, but she refused to look away. She knew if she did, she couldn't be taken seriously. Finally, Kenny had smiled._

"_Thanks, Bebe. You're pretty wise yourself. Excuse me."_

_And with that, Kenny suddenly ran off towards Stan and Kyle. _

"I did?" she asked herself. "I guess I was right."

"You were. What's the point of my saying I'm happy Stan's happy if I make him think of me whenever he's with Kyle? He'll never really be happy. But this way, he enjoys just Kyle and I get the chance to move on—to be with someone who'll love me the way I deserve. That's what you said, anyway." Kenny looked at her, and there was such a weight in his eyes that Bebe couldn't look away, "Or were you wrong?"

Bebe withheld the urge to look away. She knew her answer was important, though she didn't know why. Either way, Bebe hadn't backed down then and she refused to do so now.

"No," she said firmly, "I'm absolutely correct. But how do I know what's better for Kyle is Stan?"

"Are you still mad that a man is trying to steal your boyfriend? A gay man?" Kenny asked, his eyes unreadable.

"No. I mean, I need more time to think before I approach him about this, but I'm not…_that_ mad," she replied.

"Do you hate homosexuals?"

Bebe pouted. "Shut up. They're people just like you and me and deserve their rights. There's nothing wrong with them. Of course I don't hate them."

Kenny smiled—a genuine smile, which Bebe realized he should wear more often—and nodded at her. "Wanna take a shower with me?"

Bebe giggled and shoved him off her bed. "Be happy I didn't throw you out the window. You can hop in after me."

Kenny just sat up and grinned at her in response.

"_Today was gonna be the day, _

_But they'll never throw it back to you. _

_By now, you should've somehow _

_Realized what you're not to do. _

_I don't believe that anybody _

_Feels the way I do _

_About you now."_

* * *

Kyle Broflovski woke up to Stan Marsh staring right at him. The brunet gave him a smile and a peck on the cheek, then stood and walked to the bathroom.

"Metro-sexual again?" Kyle asked, smirking.

Stan chuckled and smiled coyly at the Jew. "Not so much." And with that, Stan was out of the room.

Kyle sighed and fell back into his bed. He wanted to listen to Kenny and deal with "the feelings" _after_ the play, but they wouldn't stop nagging at his mind and Kyle didn't know how much longer he could put it off. For one, he had a girlfriend; a girlfriend by the name of Bebe Stevens who was great, funny, witty, and incredibly hot. He glanced at the photo on his right and didn't find Bebe any less attractive. Still, there was something so comforting about Stan all of a sudden and—oh, who was he kidding?

Stan had always been his comfort zone. When Christmas came around, Stan was there to get him out of his holiday funk. When he got dumped by Red, Stan called her a bitch and a whore and practically stuck his middle finger up her nose when he told her off. And even when Stan wasn't there, Kyle always found comfort when he'd come across one of Stan's shirts or one of his poetry books.

Kyle smiled as he remembered the evenings that he would sit back and read Stan's poetry, while wearing his football jersey, pretending that the quarterback himself was reading them to Kyle. He frowned again as he remembered his still very current girlfriend. He sighed again as he sat up and wondered if what he was feeling was just a phase. After all, it wasn't unusual for friends to have crushes on each other when they disconnect from their current paramours because they want to fall back onto something that's comfortable. Kyle nodded to himself, sure that he was correct on this. Stan was his ultimate comfort zone and he and Bebe had been drifting lately—it was probably natural for this to be happening.

Then Stan walked in, still dripping wet from his shower, with a towel loosely tied around his waist.

"What's up, bro?" he grinned. "Why didn't you join me in the shower like usual?"

Kyle momentarily choked on his own spit, but he regained face quickly enough and shook his head, "Because there is no 'usual,' Stan. Normally, I just pee when you're in the shower."

Stan scowled. "I still haven't forgiven you for flushing that one time."

Kyle laughed and stood, grabbing his own towel. "Deal with it, pussy." As he walked out, he pecked Stan on the cheek and slapped the other boy's bottom. Stan turned, blushing a bright red, and watched the Jew walk to the bathroom. With a smile, Stan wondered what had gotten into Kyle—and if it could stay there.

* * *

Bebe returned from her shower with a clearer—and cleaner—head and gasped at the figure at her bed. The boy in question turned and smiled at her, eyebrow raised.

"Forget me already? I'm hurt," Kenny chortled.

"Oh, shush. Just go take a shower."

"I don't have any extra clothes."

Bebe chuckled. "I'll see if I can steal some clothes from my mom's new boyfriend."

"Is he gross?"

"He's actually nice," she smiled, "Just a bit dim."

Kenny laughed. "This is South Park, Bebe. All adults are 'just a bit dim.'" He took the towel she offered him and walked to the bathroom. The blonde girl watched him go and changed quickly, then ran to the other side of her house, stole some clothes from her still-sleeping parents, and strolled to the bathroom. She put the clothes on the toilet and turned to leave.

"Bebe?" Kenny asked.

She blushed heavily as his silhouette turned to face her; she promptly turned around and tried to keep the embarrassment out of her voice. "Yeah?"

Kenny sniggered. "Stay in here. Talk with me."

Bebe rolled her eyes. "You're naked."

"I have no shame."

"I'm dating Kyle and shouldn't see you naked."

"You sure you're dating Kyle?" he asked.

"What?" Bebe turned around, glaring at eyes she couldn't see.

"Sorry. I meant to say, Kyle wouldn't mind. He trusts you."

She frowned at him a moment longer before sighing. "Kenny…what should I do?"

"What do you think is right?" he asked, shampooing his hair. He figured smelling like coconut was totally manly.

"I don't know. I don't think I can trust myself. I actually called Stan a fag."

"He is a fag."

"In the bad sense," she corrected sadly.

Kenny gasped dramatically and Bebe couldn't help the small giggle that left her lips. Her mirth ended quickly.

"Look Bebe," Kenny sighed, "It's completely normal. But you're a good person and, in the end, you realized you were wrong for thinking that way and you're feeling guilty now. Turn around, by the way."

Bebe quickly turned away, her cheeks dusted with red, as Kenny stepped out of the shower and began toweling himself off. With a devious chuckle, Kenny reached past Bebe for the clothing; Bebe backed away with an 'eep.' Within moments, the blond was finished and he tapped Bebe's shoulder. She turned, sighed in relief, and walked out of the bathroom, Kenny on her heels.

"I mean, what can I do?" she asked, "I really love Kyle, but so does Stan, and I'm not so sure that Kyle loves me back."

"What is your heart telling you?" Kenny asked, happy that they were heading towards the kitchen.

With a pensive frown, Bebe pulled out cereal from the cupboards and a couple of bowls. Kenny grabbed the milk from the refrigerator and handed it to her with a smile. She looked up at him, wide eyes searching his for an answer.

"Something I don't like," Bebe finally answered. "And how do I know it's the right answer?"

Kenny shrugged. "Well, I think you're a good person. And good people who follow their hearts tend to make the right decisions."

Bebe nodded, and then grabbed Kenny's shoulder as he turned to the put the milk away. He turned around again and stared down at blonde curls, waiting for her to say something. When the minutes began ticking and his cereal didn't look like it was going to survive much longer, he decided to start.

"Yes?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"Will…" she began, "Will you correct me if I make the wrong decision?"

Kenny began laughing. She looked up at him questioningly. He put the milk away and hugged her, leaving Bebe confused.

"Kenny?" she asked.

"You're ridiculous," the blond replied. "You're not going to make the wrong decision."

He separated himself from her and grabbed his cereal, heading to the living room. She watched him go for a moment before sighing and grabbing her own bowl and a couple spoons. She began walking to the living room, and then stopped. Kenny was still standing in the doorway, staring at her.

"Yes?" she asked, handing him a spoon.

He grinned. "But yeah. If you make the wrong decision, I'll be sure to correct you."

She beamed at him. "Thanks, Kenny."

They finished their breakfasts in silence—Kenny wouldn't allow noise while the TV was on—and walked to school, talking about random topics. Too soon for Bebe, though, Kyle's locker came into view. She slowed her movements as she stared at the back of Kyle's head. Kyle, who was oblivious to her and Kenny, was currently facing a classmate she didn't know; he was probably helping with homework, like he always was. She smiled minutely to herself and sped up—as long as Stan wasn't around, maybe she'd be able to pull this off.

As she approached Kyle, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged herself to the boy. She felt him rumbling with laughter as he turned, enveloping her in a tight embrace. He spun her around a little before kissing her deeply, leaving Bebe ecstatic and confused. She pulled away, blushing and giggling, and looked up at her boyfriend.

"Whoa, what was that for?" she smiled.

Kyle shrugged, grinning. "I feel like we've been drifting apart lately. I love Stan and everything, but—"

"What?" Bebe interrupted, "You love Stan?"

"Well, yeah. He is like my brother," Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"Oh," Bebe muttered, looking away. Kyle blinked and lifted her chin gently, making her look at him, and smiled at her.

"Anyway, like I was saying, I love Stan and everything, but I miss you. I'm kind of excited for this party. We can dance or whatever."

Bebe's expression brightened considerably and she hugged Kyle, laughing. "Sounds like fun!"

Kyle chuckled and hugged her back. "I would say let's hang out after school, but you're tutoring Kenny, right?"

Bebe pulled away and looked momentarily bemused, but then recalled she had indeed made such a promise. She forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

Kenny frowned to himself as he watched them. Everything should've been going well, but Kyle had to go and ruin it by trying to be a good boyfriend.

"Where's Stan?" he asked suddenly.

Kyle turned and waved hello to the blond. "He's coming later; said he'd be here by Garrison's class. Getting ready for the party or whatever."

"And you're not helping? Hell, why aren't we all helping?" Kenny asked.

Bebe scowled as she realized where Kenny was steering things. "But what about school? We've been skipping a lot lately."

Kenny's eyes narrowed and Kyle began to realize he was in the middle of something.

"School is fine. Kyle is a genius, Stan's been doing well and is a jock, Cartman is the same as Stan, Wendy is also a genius, and you and I are fine. If you're that nervous, though, you should stay behind."

Kyle frowned. "I don't think—"

"I'm absolutely fine and I'm not nervous," Bebe responded steely, "I just wanted to spend time with _my boyfriend_ in school and maybe give you and Stan some time to catch up."

The blond sneered—an expression that wasn't common on his face—and Kyle was immediately alarmed.

"Okay, shut up, both of you," the red-head said firmly. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but it ends now."

Bebe and Kenny looked at Kyle, both frowning and somewhat ashamed, and stayed quiet under his piercing glare.

"Bebe, we'll have all the time in the world to hang out at the party and next weekend and after the play. It's not like we're breaking up tonight or something. And Kenny, play nice. I don't know what's wrong with you, but you're usually much more patient. If you two are gonna jump down each other's throats at your study date, then I'll just tutor Kenny myself."

Kenny smirked at Bebe, "Well, maybe that'll be better. We can invite Stan and Cartman and make it a bro-study-date."

Kyle shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat."

Bebe's eyes widened. "No, it's okay! Kenny and I probably just woke up on the wrong side of the bed—"

"We woke up in the same bed," Kenny interrupted.

Bebe stopped talking—left speechless by Kenny's words—and looked at Kyle, expecting the worst.

"Okay…?" Kyle raised his eyebrow again.

"You…you don't care?" she asked.

"Not really. Kenny will sleep in anyone's bed. Found him in my bed once. Found him in _Red's_ bed once."

"But…but, I'm your _girlfriend_. Aren't you a little worried?"

"I'm not the jealous type, Bebe," Kyle chuckled, "And I trust you and Kenny. I know you wouldn't cheat on me. Why?"

Bebe shook her head and smiled again. "No reason. I just…I was worried for no reason. Sorry I jumped down your throat, Kenny," she turned towards the blond. "I was just really scared about Kyle getting mad about you and me sharing a bed."

Kenny shrugged, smiling. "It's cool."

The bell rung and Kyle smiled. "Well, I'm glad that's worked out." His phone suddenly vibrated and he flipped it open easily, quickly reading the message. "Guess I'm skipping, too. Fat tits needs help carrying the booze. See you guys later."

With that, he kissed Bebe briefly and patted Kenny's head as he left. As soon as he was out of sight, Bebe immediately glared at Kenny. The boy returned the gesture.

"You're trying to get Stan together with Kyle! You're against me, too!" she accused. "I thought you were on _my_ side!"

"_You're_ the one who said I was all-knowing!" he returned, "Don't you think I know what I'm doing now?"

"What you're _doing_ is stealing my boyfriend from me! Well, not you, not Wendy, not Cartman, and certainly not _Stan fucking Marsh_ is going to steal my Kyle away from me!"

"_Bebe_," he hissed, "Listen to yourself! Just because Kyle's being nice to you, you decide to lie to yourself and cling to him longer! All you're doing is hurting yourself!"

"Maybe I need to learn that for myself!" Bebe yelled.

"Goddammit, woman, why can't you just trust me!"

"_Because I love him!"_ she cried, and then sighed heavily. "I'm in love with him, Kenny. I don't know what the right thing to do is when I'm around him. Especially when he's so affectionate."

Kenny huffed and shook his head. "He's just being nice! I bet he got too close to Stan last night and felt guilty or something!"

"How do you know that?" she snarled, "Maybe he just realized he's been neglecting me!"

"You wanna know how I know?" Kenny resigned, "Fine. I didn't want to do this, but I'll _show_ you."

Bebe frowned at him, but nodded. Kenny turned sharply around and walked briskly out of the hall. The blonde girl followed him closely, staring at his back. They walked in silence through the front doors, onto the street, and towards the liquor store. Eventually uneasy about Kenny's unusual silence, Bebe tried to break the tension.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked timidly.

"I've been pondering how to draw things that begin with the letter M," he replied icily.

"Why with an M?"

"Why not?" he returned.

"What…what have you thought of drawing so far?"

"Maple, mouse traps, mistresses, men…muchness."

Bebe frowned. "How do you go about drawing muchness?"

"Don't you know?"

"Really? Now you're asking me?" Bebe shook her head, bemused, "I don't think—"

"Then you shouldn't talk."

She frowned, affronted, but followed Kenny nonetheless with a huff. For whatever reason, she couldn't help but feel that he somehow lured her into a Lewis Carroll book. (i) Soon enough, the liquor store came into view and there, through the window, Bebe could see Stan, Kyle, and Cartman.

And some poor soul who was crying at the counter; Bebe assumed this was Scott Tenorman.

She was about to enter the store, but Kenny put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. He pulled her aside, at just the right angle so that she couldn't be seen, then entered the store. Bebe watched with a frown as Kenny briefly talked to the other boys, patted Tenorman on the shoulder, then picked up the alcohol Cartman needed help with and walked out. Cartman breezed past her with a "Ho," but Bebe paid him no mind. Instead, she focused her attention on the two boys still standing inside.

She always knew Kyle was a nice, sweet, caring guy—but he could be a real ass sometimes. For instance, she chuckled, right at the moment, wherein he was laughing at something with Stan in front of a broken man. She watched for a while as they continued talking, wishing that she could read lips, before deciding there was nothing to see. Just like last night, all she saw was that Stan's face was abundant with adoration. The blonde was about to tell Kenny off, but then she looked at Kyle. The red-head was grabbing the jar of tears that Cartman had left behind and let himself be hugged from behind by Stan. Bebe bit her lip; that was perfectly normal, right? Guys did that with each other, right? She couldn't very well see Kyle's face after that, but Stan pulled away laughing, and Kyle shook his head, taking the jar once more. When he turned, there was a light blush on his cheeks and a soft smile on his lips.

The same smile he gave Bebe when he first admitted he liked her.

Bebe stepped back and felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She stepped back again and felt a hand on her shoulder. Biting her bottom lip once more, she turned and stared right into Kenny's sorrowful eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"So…he doesn't like me anymore? At all?" she asked, her voice cracking.

Kenny smiled, though it was pained. "I wouldn't say that. He still likes you. He's just torn."

Cartman scoffed from behind Kenny. "Leave it to a Jew to be torn between being with a fag and being with a ho."

Kenny kicked Cartman before taking Bebe's hand and leading her back to school.

"Why are we going back?"

Kenny shrugged. "We weren't gonna skip the whole day. Besides, do you really want to see Kyle now?"

Bebe shook her head and intertwined her fingers with Kenny's. She sighed and caught up with his quick strides. After a block or so, she lifted her head and looked straight ahead. This was just a setback, she thought, but she knew what she had to do. And this time, her decision couldn't be influenced by Kenny, Kyle, or anybody. No, she opted instead that she would do what _she_ thought was right. Bebe glanced at the boy beside her; he smiled as he walked ahead and his hand was warm. She smiled as well and squeezed his hand a bit, gaining a squeeze in return. He smiled at her apologetically.

She would make the decision she needed to make, even if it meant she would lose Kenny McCormick.

"I know it doesn't start with an M, but I'm sorry," he chuckled.

Bebe giggled and nodded. "It doesn't start with an M either, but I'm sorry too."

Bebe grinned at him and Kenny beamed back at her and Bebe really hoped that she wouldn't end up losing Kenny, because she wasn't so sure she could handle it.

* * *

After getting his parents out of the house and meeting Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman to pick up the booze, Stan was more than satisfied when he got to walk back to school with his beloved red-head; even the fact that Cartman was with them and ripping on Kyle wasn't putting a damper on his mood. After another wonderful sleep over and an equally enjoyable morning, Stan was starting to think Kyle liked him back. Still, Stan refused to get his hopes up.

They managed to sneak into the school with no problems and walked into Garrison's class, pleased to see that Kenny was already there—Stan was worried that he had died or something when the blond didn't return with them. He smiled at Kenny, who grinned back, and took his seat beside Kyle. Garrison entered the class and Stan smiled and reclined back, ready for an easy class.

"Student's, there's going to be a change of pace today," Garrison suddenly announced and it was then that Stan realized that Garrison had an unnerving smile on his lips.

Stan gulped.

"What are you talking about?" Kyle asked, eyebrow raised.

"In lieu of the play that's coming up, I've decided that our lessons from now own should focus explaining how homosexuality works."

"But this is a history class," Bebe complained.

"Well, now it's a social sciences class, so shut up," Garrison barked.

"Wouldn't it be more of a, I don't know, queer studies class, then?" Wendy corrected.

"Stop being a show off, Wendy," Garrison replied.

Stan shook his head in dismay. Well, honestly, how bad could it be? Besides, for all he knew, Garrison was doing it purely because of the play and not because of what he'd told him.

"Stan, Kyle, you were our fag couple back when we did the egg project, right?"

Stan grit his teeth, "Yes."

Kyle merely nodded.

"Well, then you can be our fag couple for the rest of this lesson!" the teacher chirped.

With a groan, Stan's head fell to the desk. He didn't notice Bebe doing the exact same thing. Kyle chuckled beside him and Stan was inclined to look over at the red-head.

"What, pray tell, is so funny?" the brunet asked.

Kyle smirked. "It's like the universe is telling us to give up on women and just bang each other."

Stan refused to be optimistic; instead, he scoffed and smiled back at his friend. "At least we wouldn't have to deal with PMS."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Kyle replied, standing, "You're such a fag, you might just qualify for being a woman."

Stan laughed as he stood, following Kyle to the front of the class. "Let it be known for the record that you would be the woman because you're the catcher."

"When did we decide this again?"

"Same day we decided you'd be wearing the dress at our wedding."

"Oh, you say 'I love you' _one time_, and suddenly you're the fag in white." Kyle rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"It'll be a white wedding, indeed." Stan tittered.

"And this, students," Garrison interrupted, "is what you call a typical 'fagversation'. By definition, it is when two very obvious fags talk about their future wedding plans as a joke and don't realize how true it actually is."

Bebe shook her head, determined not to let this get to her. She looked up and saw Kyle smile and wave at her. She smiled back weakly and blew a kiss to him. The red-head grinned and caught it, putting it on his cheek. She giggled and sat back, more assured of what she needed to do that evening.

She was going to prove to everyone, one way or another, that she and Kyle Broflovski were meant to be.

"So, class, now that we've covered the fagversation, I'd like our two players here to go over fagplay, which is the equivalent of horseplay, except—"

"We get it already!" Cartman growled, "Except it's done by fags! Can we _please_ move on to another topic?"

* * *

After a particularly torturous day of classes, the boys stood outside and waited for Wendy and Bebe. Cartman began to regale to Kenny how fulfilling it was for him to see Tenorman crying and Stan and Kyle laughed about their class.

"I can't believe he made you take off your shirt," Stan chuckled.

Kyle shook his head. "When the hell was the fagtionary invented?"

"And then, I smiled at him—my sweetest possible smile—and he started crying _more_! Isn't that great? Kenny? Kenny?"

"You're lucky you got hot, or I'd have regretted being friends with you a while ago," Kenny replied.

"Don't you dare start hitting on me, you poor asshole."

"Yes, please don't." Wendy smiled as she approached them. Kenny stared at her a while before laughing and backing away from Cartman.

"What was that about, Kenny?" Kyle asked.

"Nothing." the blond grinned. Kyle narrowed his eyes then looked at Stan, eyebrow raised. Stan merely shrugged. Bebe walked over to Kyle, just as confused as the other boys. She watched Wendy walk up to Cartman with a shy smile and a red…dusting…on…her…cheeks…

Bebe couldn't believe it. Wendy and Cartman were together! But, she frowned, instead of Wendy kissing him or hugging him, the brunette just smiled up at the linebacker and started a conversation with Stan about the play. It was so obvious. Why didn't Kyle and Stan see it? However, a look from Kenny told her to keep quiet about it; she shrugged and smiled at Wendy.

"So, now what?" Kyle asked.

"Well, Wendy and I are going to Shakey's," Cartman replied.

Kyle grinned. "Does that mean…?"

"Yes, it does, Jew. I got the role of Romeo." Cartman bowed at the cheers, whoops, and applauses he got from his friends.

"I completely forgot to check the list," Stan admitted. "Who got Montague and Capulet?"

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Who do you think?"

Stan and Kyle laughed and cheered, high-fiving and hugging. Bebe smiled—even if it was a plot to steal her boyfriend away, she was still happy that their "hard work" paid off. When they separated, Kyle immediately hugged Bebe and the blonde felt happy that she wasn't forgotten.

"I don't know why they're so surprised," Cartman muttered, "They're the only people faggy enough to do the roles."

Wendy giggled. "Oh please. You were totally cheering like that in the bathroom when you found out about your role, _Romeo._"

Cartman pouted and looked away. "Shut up."

"So, can we assume that our Juliet is...?" Kenny trailed.

Wendy curtsied and the small group cheered for her.

"Okay, can we stop acting like those stupid teenagers from the Power Rangers?" Cartman barked.

"Yeah, it's not our style," Kyle agreed. "Someone say something normal."

Stan shrugged and looked at Kenny. "Fag."

Kenny shoved him. "Asshole."

And all was right with the world.

"All jokes aside," Wendy interrupted, "What are everyone else's plans for today and should we meet up before the party?"

Stan shrugged. "Kyle and I were going to get some food for the party. We still have some money left over from when I swindled Cruise."

"Again?" Kenny asked.

"All praise Hubbard."

Wendy rolled her eyes and looked expectantly at Bebe.

"Well, Kenny and I are still going to go over math today. Probably for an hour or two; so, if you want, I can come over to your place later and we can get ready together."

Wendy smiled and nodded. "Sounds good."

Stan snickered. "Women. They always need to do everything in pairs."

"Not like we men, right?" Kenny laughed.

"Absolutely," Kyle agreed.

"So, Kyle, you're gonna help me with my outfit for tonight, right?" Stan asked.

"Yeah, definitely. You're helping with mine?" the red-head replied.

"Of course."

"Who's helping me?" Kenny frowned.

Cartman groaned. "I'll help, you stupid fag. So long as you return the favor."

"What if I need to accessorize?" Stan interjected.

Kyle waved it off flippantly, "No worries. I got you."

"I have this one outfit in mind, but I think I need to borrow someone's shoes," Kenny mumbled.

"I think I have the shoes you're thinking of if you're talking about _that_ outfit," Stan grinned.

Kenny nodded and hugged the brunet. "You always come through for me, man."

"In that case," Cartman frowned, "Lend me that shirt that doesn't fit you. I think I have something that can work with it."

The blond boy agreed. "Sure." They continued on their tangent, almost forgetting that Wendy and Bebe were still there.

"Women, huh?" Wendy smirked, crossing her arms.

Bebe shook her head, smiling. "Yeah. Women."

* * *

Stan grinned at himself in the mirror, pleased with what Kyle had done to him. He wore the gray graphic tee Kenny had given him last year; a simple skull design stood out on the middle of his chest. He wore his faded blue jeans, his black wrist bands, and a necklace with a shark tooth on it he got from Wendy a few years back. He pulled on Kyle's black converses and was satisfied with himself.

"Kyle, what do you think?"

He turned to see if Kyle had finished changing and made an effort not to stare. Kyle had put on his black, short sleeve button-up shirt, with a plaid red vest, his faded red skinny jeans, and his black cowboy boots. The top three buttons of Kyle's shirt were open, and one could easily see a sliver of the toned chest Stan adored and the blood red choker around Kyle's neck.

"You're wearing that?" he asked, voice strained.

Kyle laughed. "I know it was a gag gift, but I think it looks good with this outfit. So, thanks. You look great, jock."

"Whatever, hipster," Stan beamed.

Kyle chuckled. "I guess this means we should start heading over to your place."

"Yeah." Stan nodded and grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys. They walked downstairs, bid farewell to Kyle's parents, and Kyle even managed to kick Ike off the couch before they ran outside and into the car. They drove away, safe from Ike's wrath, and headed to the brunet's house—which, admittedly, wasn't far enough for them to warrant using the car. Unbidden, they climbed out of the car and found Cartman and Kenny waiting at the front door.

"Why didn't you just break in like you usually do?" Stan asked.

"Because I wanted to see your sexy asses first," Kenny replied. He stood up, dusting off his blue jeans. His orange shirt clung closely to the blond's chest, and Stan found himself appreciating his simple outfit.

"Yeah, I definitely have the right shoes for that," he chuckled.

"Good, because if you didn't, I would've stolen something from you."

"Probably your underwear," Cartman muttered. He himself wore a tight black shirt with a light purple airy design on the right side—the shirt Kenny had originally bought for himself at a thrift store, but could never fit in—and dark khakis with his black dress shoes.

Stan shook his head and opened the door. He handed Kenny the orange and black Vans and began setting out the food and putting the drinks in the coolers around the room. With a grunt, Cartman helped him carry the heavier items. Kenny and Kyle set about taking the expensive, priceless, and family sort of items and hiding them. It wasn't their first party and, by then, the four boys were already experts at how to throw parties wherein they avoided trouble.

"How long will your parents be gone this time?" Kyle asked.

"All weekend, probably," Stan replied. "I told them that the internet was dry again and they had to go Californy way."

"How'd you manage that?" Kyle raised a brow.

"I disconnected the yellow wire to the router."

Kenny laughed. "When are they coming back, then?"

"I told them I'd shoot them an email." Stan grinned. Kenny laughed again and headed to the basement to put away some family photos in the safe Stan kept.

"What about Shelly? She's not stupid enough to fall for that, is she?" Cartman asked.

"No, but by getting rid of our parents, I gave her a chance to spend the weekend with her boyfriend. So she's gone."

"And…and your grandpa?" Kyle asked, frowning uncomfortably.

"Yeeeaaah, about that…"

He regretted not breaching this topic sooner, because right as he was going to explain, he heard a shriek from downstairs. Cartman, Stan, and Kyle ran to the door to the basement; Kenny was trying to pry Stan's grandpa off his arm, yelling about how he wasn't going to kill the old man, and he needed to let go already, dammit!

"I didn't know where to put him," Stan defended.

Kyle glowered at the brunet. "We're not leaving him in the basement. You two brutes get him in the car and I'll drive him to my place. My mom needs a new humanitarian cause, anyway."

The boys shrugged, managed to get the old man off Kenny, and then carried him to Stan's car, where they unceremoniously threw the poor man in—wheelchair and all. Kyle sighed and shook his head, grabbing Stan's keys, and climbed into the car.

"I'll be back in a few," he announced and drove off. Stan watched him go and sighed.

"He's only been gone forty seconds. Could you stop being a fag and help us get _your_ damn party ready?" Cartman sneered. "Fags."

Stan nodded, sighed again like the world was ending, and ambled back into his house, helping the other two boys prepare.

Within minutes, they were done and the party guests began arriving. The first, of course, was Butters; the poor blond arrived with books, ready to study. Stan had to explain to him that they were actually partying, the study date was a lie, and that Butters was not allowed to leave. The southern boy sighed and nodded, grabbing a drink and sitting with Kenny.

"What was that about?" Cartman asked, dusting his hands as he finished setting up the stereo.

"I'll be damned if he avoids another one of my parties just because of his stupid parents," Stan frowned. "He's going to have fun and he's going to like it, the damn Melvin."

Cartman frowned. "His parents will find out."

Stan smirked mischievously. "No, they won't." He picked up his cell phone and called the Stotch house. He immediately set into explaining how the internet had run dry again and how they needed to go Californy way, like Stan's parents, and that Butters and Stan would email them when the drought was over. With a few frantic yells, he confirmed that the Stotch family, minus Butters, would be gone for a while.

"Taken care of," he said triumphantly.

Cartman shook his head and smirked. "I couldn't have done any better."

More and more guests arrived and it seemed like the whole of the South Park teenage population was crammed inside Stan's house. Stan was glad he had spent the money to get his parents a Jacuzzi for their anniversary, as a variety of students from his class crowded around it and tried to get it started. After what seemed like hours to the brunet, Kyle walked through the door, dropping Stan's keys in the bowl at the front. He held the door open for Wendy and Bebe and took their coats, throwing the articles in the closet.

Stan grit his teeth as he took in Bebe. She wore a short, black pencil skirt, a red, short sleeve button-up, modest black heels, black tights that were probably held up with a garter, and her red-rimmed glasses. Kyle wasted no time in complimenting her and Stan bemoaned his luck—the hot librarian look was Kyle's favorite. How was he supposed to compete?

…He_ could_ put on a skirt…

Stan shook his head, deciding that would probably scare Kyle more than anything. He did not, however, know that Bebe had actually planned on wearing a racier outfit, but had decided on that one for a completely different reason.

Wendy walked in and hugged Kyle as well, dropping her keys into the bowl. Her mid-thigh purple skirt clung to her athletic legs, and her black, short sleeve turtle neck showed off her toned arms. Stan smiled and walked over.

"You two look great," he said.

Wendy grinned and nodded. "Thanks. Where's Eric?"

Stan chuckled and pointed to the kitchen. She smiled, straightened her outfit, and cat-walked towards the kitchen. Kyle laughed as she left.

"She's going to leave an impression, isn't she?" he joked.

Bebe smiled and nodded. "Actually, Kyle, before we hang out and stuff, I need to talk to Stan."

Kyle blinked, looked at an equally confused Stan, then shrugged and let her go after giving her a quick peck. Stan shot him a look and the red-head nodded, understanding. He stood by the door and welcomed the other guests who were coming.

Stan led Bebe to his room and closed the door, blocking out most of the noise. He turned to face her with a smile, but it was wiped off when he noticed her serious expression.

"Bebe?" he asked.

"I know, Stan," she replied.

Stan blanched, but made an effort to keep his composure. "What are you talking about?"

"I know everything, Stan!" she exploded, "I know that you're in love with Kyle; I know that the play is all a ruse to get Kyle to love you back; I know that you've got Kenny, Wendy, and Cartman in on this; I know everything!"

Stan stared at her, eyes wide and mouth agape. "How?"

"I was walking by Kyle's house and saw your face and pieced it all together."

"Bebe, aren't you being a bit paranoid?" Stan eventually laughed, though it was extremely unconvincing.

"Kenny confirmed it. And so did you, just now," Bebe smiled sadly, "You're the world's worst liar. Even worse than me."

Stan sighed heavily and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Bebe. It's just, Flora said I needed to split you guys up and—"

"Flora?" she interrupted.

"The florist. I went to buy flowers for Kyle a few days ago and that's when this whole thing started."

She sighed and forced herself to be strong.

"Stan, tell me the whole thing. From the beginning. I think I deserve that."

Stan drew in a breath and nodded. He told her about meeting Flora and how Flora's advice was to break them up. He told her about telling Kenny and how Kenny agreed to help. He told her how Cartman was eavesdropping on them and agreed to help as long as he was able to get Wendy. He told explained how Wendy became involved after her apology, though he didn't really know why Wendy agreed to it. He told her about the dates, the flirting, visiting Chef, and the plan to get both Bebe and Kyle drunk in an effort to have them break up.

"So, you were going to have us break up tonight? Is that what this party is about?" she asked, her voice suspiciously even.

"Y-Yeah. Flora said that there had to be some problem with your relationship and, with a bit of alcohol, we could find out what it was and have you two break up over it."

"So our anniversary party?"

"I-I'm sorry," he looked away, ashamed, "but it was probably never happening."

She nodded sadly and kept her gaze down.

"I'm sorry, Bebe. All of this…it's all my fault. I-I'll stop now."

She looked up into Stan's remorseful face. She sighed as she realized that there was no part of this that he was enjoying. He'd been sorry about it since day one, hadn't he?

"Stan," she eventually said. He looked up at her, though he didn't quite look at her eyes. "It's not your fault."

"What?" he asked, his gaze finally meeting hers.

"It's not your fault that you fell in love with Kyle. Believe me," she smiled, "I know."

"You…? You love Kyle, too?"

She nodded and Stan groaned.

"Then I have to stop. It's not fair that I take him away from you," he muttered.

"Stan…I'm sorry."

The brunet looked at Bebe, shocked. She smiled ruefully at him and closed the distance between them, hugging the boy.

"I'm really sorry, Stan. I got pretty angry there and thought some horrible things about you. I bet you never once even considered that I was a bitch, did you?"

Stan shook his head mutely, trying to understand what was happening. Cautiously, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I think what we all need is a clean slate," she announced. She hugged herself tighter to him then let go and smiled earnestly at him.

"A clean slate?" he parroted, looking down at a girl whose heart he thought he crushed. Maybe Stan needed to get to know Bebe better, he wondered, because he never knew Bebe was this stalwart.

Bebe nodded again and stepped back, smiling. "Yes, Stan. A clean slate. We need to start over from step one. All of us."

"What do you mean?" Stan asked.

"You've been in love with Kyle for a while, but so have I. Still, I got the upper hand because I'm a girl and Kyle is straight—"

"Mostly," Stan defended.

Bebe merely chuckled, "Okay, 'mostly' straight. Point is, Stan, you never got a chance to figure out your feelings and let Kyle know before I was in the picture. He deserves to know that we both love him and he deserves a chance to pick the person he loves most."

"What are you getting at, Bebe?"

"What I'm getting at is that I don't want to be the jealous bitch who keeps you away from Kyle just because I don't want you turning him gay. You can't help who you love. But I don't want to lose Kyle either. Still, I know you're not trying to hurt me, so I wanted to do something that was fair, also."

"Which is?" Stan prodded.

"I'll show you," she smiled, exited the room, and walked downstairs straight to Kyle. Stan watched from the staircase, making sure to lock his door. He watched them talk for a while when, suddenly, Kyle's face became shocked. He looked up at Stan—he looked angry—and seemed like he was yelling. Bebe shook her head at something and kept talking about something. He noticed that she also made a few hand gestures and noted with a smile that she did that often.

Maybe it was the fact that he'd finally been honest with her, or maybe it was the fact that he'd been honest with her and Bebe understood him more than anyone, but he was starting to appreciate Bebe Stevens a little more.

Finally, Bebe hugged Kyle and let him go, then walked away. Kyle stood, looking quite lost, and it seemed like he wasn't moving. Stan took this as his cue to walk over.

"Bro, what happened?" Stan asked.

"You don't know?" Kyle asked, his tone laced with acid.

"No, dude. She came upstairs and talked to me about a bunch of stuff, but I don't know what she did just now."

Kyle glared at him for a while; eventually satisfied that Stan was telling the truth, he sighed. "She broke up with me, dude."

"What?" Stan asked, incredulous.

"She broke up with me. Said something about all of us needing a clean slate. And get this—she broke up with me _after_ she told me she loved me."

"What?" Stan was shocked into repetition.

"She said there's someone who loves me just as much as she does and that she's not being fair to that person. So, she told me she loved me and she was going to earn my love; but, this way, the other person gets their fair chance, too. What the hell, right?"

Stan nodded mutely.

"So…so I guess I'm single. And now, I have to figure out who _else_ is in love with me and choose between them and Bebe. I tried to choose Bebe again," the red-head didn't notice Stan's growl. "But she insisted that if I knew who it was, I would give that person a chance."

"Maybe she knows best," Stan found himself saying.

Kyle chuckled humorlessly and nodded. "I just wish I knew who this other person was."

Stan bit his lip and began to answer that, when Bebe walked over to them with a couple of drinks.

"Hey, guys," she smiled. Kyle smiled awkwardly at her and waved. Stan just looked at her.

"I know I'm not your favorite person right now, but can I get a better hello than that?" she laughed.

Kyle shook his head, smirking, and hugged her, being careful not to spill her drinks.

"Sorry, Bebe. It's just a little weird," he relented.

Stan smiled at her. "Just a little, but either way, how goes?"

"It goes much better now," she smiled secretly at him. "Anyway, Kyle, you wanna dance with me?"

Kyle laughed and nodded. "Sounds like fun."

"Cool. Meet you on the dance floor. I just want to put these drinks down somewhere they won't get drugged."

Kyle smiled and walked to the dancing area in the living room. Bebe turned to Stan and smiled humbly.

"Did you get a chance to tell him?" she asked.

"Heh. No, I didn't. I'll tell him soon," Stan smiled. "Thanks for this, Bebe."

The blonde girl shrugged and handed him the other drink. "Everyone deserves a chance at love."

She held her drink up, her lips smiling wide. "I'm cheering for you, Stan Marsh."

The brunet laughed and lifted his cup up, touching hers in a toast.

"I'm cheering for you, Bebe Stevens."

They lifted their cups higher with a laugh, then tipped their heads back as they guzzled the drinks. Neither of them noticed Kenny watching them from the couch, a content look on his face.

"See, Bebe?" he whispered, "I told you good people always make the right decisions."

* * *

(i) By which I mean Lewis Carroll, author of _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ and _Through the Looking Glass_. If you don't recognize the exchange, then read the books. Nonsense literature is freeing in a sense—it makes you feel like a kid again. However, you may grow to dislike the Hatter. He's a bit rude. :T

Also, originally, Bebe didn't actually love Kyle and it was quite easy for her to let Kyle go. That unfortunately changed last chapter when my stupid fingers wouldn't stop typing, so I apologize about the way this is going. It really was the only way I could keep Bebe as the good person she is and at the same time give Kyle the space he needs; it was also the only way to give Bebe some actual depth as a character, instead of making her into the "Style is totally cool with me" stereotype. So much for not having another super long chapter. #Ifeellikeafailure

Also, I apologize for the various mistakes. My phone formatted some things wrong and some of my corrections doubled up the corrections and the old words that were there.

By the way, I always tell myself "wallet, phone, keys" before I leave. Figured Stan could take my habit. And never expect me to describe what they're wearing ever again. I really hate doing that.


	13. Future of Bromance is for Pussies

**Please read this note. It pertains to the future of "Bromance."**

Hey, guys. This isn't a chapter. There are some things we need to discuss and, mind you, this is the only time I will ever ask for a review. If you haven't already, I suggest you watch the last two episodes of South Park's latest season. There will be major spoilers in this note.

I don't really care about the second to last episode, but the last one; it's called "You're Getting Old." In it, Stan becomes ten and a cynical asshole and everything he sees, hears, and eats is shit. Randy is immature again and Sharon has had enough of it. Finally, the two adults admit that they're not happy with each other and decide to split. Sharon takes Stan with her and they move into a nice place. By this time, Stan sees Kyle as shit and it seems like their friendship will not recover. The episode ends there—Stan and Kyle have not reconciled and Sharon and Randy are still separated.

As you know, I tend to remain as canon as possible when it comes to "Bromance," but I'm not sure what to do here. If I want to remain canon, I can't ignore this, because it's honestly a huge test on Stan and Kyle's friendship and actually really important in my story.

However, as time went on, "Bromance" stopped being just mine. Although I write it, I depend heavily on MajesticWolf27 for her editing and her opinion on how I should continue. Although I write it, I depend heavily on you guys, the reviewers, for your approval. Though I never ask for reviews, I enjoy all the ones I get and it helps me keep going with "Bromance."

Keep in mind, "Bromance" has three (3) chapters left, plus an epilogue. So, because "Bromance is for Pussies" is also your story, I'm going to let you guys decide on two very important things. First thing: should I wait for the next episode of South Park (which comes out in October while I'm in school) to continue with the story so that I am absolutely canon, or should I guess my best as to how this issue was resolved and continue now? Second thing: Do you want a sequel?

As I said, "Bromance" was my quirky invention and I am the only person writing it. However, Majesticwolf27 is just as responsible for these chapters as I am, because I refuse to post them until Majesticwolf27 has beta'd them. Similarly, there is no point to a story that has no readers—this story is as much yours as mine and I don't think it's really fair to make such important decisions near the end of the story without letting you know.

So, whether in a review or a PM, please let me know on the two answers above. Again, those questions are: 1) wait until October for the new episode of South Park to continue "Bromance?" and 2) is a sequel in order?

Thanks for everything guys and thanks to Majesticwolf27 for being my beta.

(Yes—Majesticwolf27 even beta'd this note.)


	14. Decision

Okay, so, it's been decided. Thanks for your reviews and opinions.

"Bromance is for Pussies" will continue as planned. Chapter 13 will be written as it was intended and the latest episode of South Park will be mostly disregarded in this story. As for the sequel: If the next episode of South Park in October reveals that Stan and Kyle did _not_ reconcile, then the sequel will end up being a sort of prequel and will explain how the two boys overcame that road block. However, if they do reconcile in the next episode, there will be a different sequel.

Thanks for all your help. If you had a particularly helpful review, check your inboxes.

Again, thanks to Majesticwolf27 for being my beta and I promise to have Chapter 13 out as soon as possible. The goal is to finish "Bromance" before August 20th. Wish me luck.


	15. He's Got Style The Melvin

I realize that "Bromance" is the first story that I've been able to write consistently for, as well as enjoy writing, since my grandfather passed away. That cheers me up just a bit.

There was a reviewer who said that Kyle's outfit couldn't be any more hipster. While true, I'm surprised no one's noticed these outfits are the ones I drew in that fan art I totally posted for you guys after agonizing on the clothes and what style to draw them in. #feelguiltyyet

Also, I realize I use the word "fag" a lot in this story. I apologize in advance if it offends anyone, but I won't stop using it. It's a fun word to use, much like "bitch" and "douche" and I don't mean to offend anyone with it. Intention is the real problem with a word, not the word itself. So, I apologize if anyone misunderstands my intent behind using the word "fag," but it's in pure fun and good nature (except Cartman's usage and, even then…well, yeah).

Thanks, as always, to Majesticwolf27 for being my beta and here's hoping she feels better soon.

Hah. I've also been wondering what gender you guys picture me as.

* * *

A few days had passed since the party and since Bebe had broken up with Kyle, and the Jew's mood had not improved. The Monday after the party, official rehearsals had begun—Wendy had rewritten the script to be in regular English already—and all the actors, stage hands, managers, and the like had to meet after school in preparation for the play.

And that was the only time he ever saw his so-called best friend, Stan Marsh.

He had tried to figure out what exactly he had done wrong, but Stan continued to assure him that it was nothing and that he should just get on with the lines. It irked Kyle to no end that he couldn't talk to Stan. Worse yet, Mercury kept watch over their scenes because she wanted to be sure they were comfortable doing these scenes in public—that meant no talking outside of the script. Kyle groaned; he also kept getting slack because he apparently lacked the passion he had in his audition.

Kenny was also always around Stan, leaving Kyle to wish that Kenny was around _him_ for some much needed advice. Cartman just called Kyle a fag (his new favorite word, apparently) and Wendy was always with Cartman. Kyle hadn't really bothered to make many friends, figuring he'd either be with Stan, Kenny, or Bebe. He even assumed he'd at _least_ have Cartman around—like when the fat ass had comforted him before—but Kyle supposed that was a one-time thing.

The only good thing that had come out of the last five days without Stan was Bebe; she and Kyle had spent the last few days hanging out with each other and it felt almost like they were dating again. Still, because Kyle didn't want to scare Bebe away, he couldn't exactly talk to her about his problems. Instead, he sat back in his seat, arm around his ex-girlfriend, as they lounged on his couch Wednesday evening, watching some movie he hated.

To be honest, he was starting to hate a lot of things.

The movie was finally—_finally_—over. Bebe turned to Kyle with a smile and then frowned.

"Is something wrong, Kyle?" she asked gently.

"Nothing," he replied through grit teeth.

She pulled away from him, eyebrow raised. "I don't think that's true."

"Just drop it, Bebe."

"Tell me what's wrong?" she begged.

Kyle growled. "Why aren't we together, Bebe?"

The blonde sighed. "Is that really what's bothering you?"

"Yes!" he exploded, standing, "We're hanging out as if we were still dating! I hold you like we're still dating! _You said you loved me!_ Correct me if I'm wrong, but that generally means you want to be with me, right?"

Bebe nodded, frowning. "I do want to be with you, Kyle, but I don't think it's fair to the other person who loves you."

"Why the fuck do you want to be fair to someone I don't even know?" he yelled. "Are you sure you love me?"

"I do!" she stood, indignant, "I'm just doing what's right!"

Kyle scoffed, throwing his hands up in frustration, and fell to the couch with a scowl. Bebe frowned at him and gingerly sat beside him.

"H…How's Stan?" she eventually asked. "I haven't seen him lately."

And the red-head was back on his feet, pacing in front of the couch. "That asshole hasn't talked to me since the end of the party! One minute, he can't leave me alone for five _fucking_ seconds, but then he ignores me! Who the fuck does he think he is? What kind of friend does that?"

"I'm sure he doesn't mean to hurt you, Kyle," Bebe muttered. "Besides, you two have been together a lot lately. Maybe he needs space."

"No! Fuck him! He practically avoided me for years and I took his shit without a single complaint! Now, he's hiding shit from me because he 'needs to figure out his feelings' or some shit! Now, he expects me to be gay with him on a stage in front of hundreds of people! Now, he's spending all his fucking time with _Kenny_ instead of _me_!"

Bebe bit her lip, letting Kyle regain his breath from his small rant.

"I-If I didn't know any better," she whispered, "I'd say you were jealous."

Kyle stopped pacing, shocked. He looked at her, his green eyes blazing with an intensity that left Bebe wishing that intensity was love for her. Slowly, his angry expression melted off—he seemed to be in deep thought—before a very pronounced frown appeared on his face.

"You know what, Bebe?" he said, eerily calm. "You're absolutely right."

"About?"

"I'm jealous. I'm really fucking jealous," he decided, his voice rising with his emotions. "I'm jealous that Kenny gets to spend so much fucking time with Stan. I'm jealous that Stan doesn't want to spend any time with me. And you know what else? I'm scared."

Bebe looked at him, bemused.

"I'm scared I'm losing him. That we're not going to be together forever, like we promised. I don't want to lose my best friend, Bebe. I love Kenny, and I know he's in love with Stan, but Stan…"

What he wanted to say was that Stan was his entire world. What he wanted to say was that he couldn't function without Stan, even if the brunet was a notorious fuck-up. What he wanted to say was that he wanted Stan to be sitting on that couch, instead of Bebe. But he couldn't say that. Best friends don't say that, do they? Didn't that sound more…romantic?

Bebe seemed to notice though, as he took in the sad look in her eyes.

"Maybe it's good that you stay away from Stan for a while," she replied quietly. The blonde couldn't help being a little selfish. Whatever kept Stan away from Kyle gave her a few days with Kyle that had been some of the best of their whole relationship. Sure, it was because he was trying to win her back. Sure, they weren't dating. And yeah, she did have to deal with his occasional moodiness about Stan, but he'd been pretty closed about that topic until now. She regretted asking about the brunet.

Kyle looked at her incredulously. "What? Why? He's my best friend."

Bebe grit her teeth.

"It sure doesn't sound like he's _just_ your best friend," she spat hatefully. Suddenly, she stood, grabbed her bag, and stormed to the door.

Kyle stood, stunned for a second, before he regained his senses and followed her. Before she reached the exit, he grabbed her elbow, turning her around.

"What?" she barked.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"What's wrong is that you're here trying to 'win me back,' but you spend the whole time we're together thinking about Stan!"

"He's my best friend, Bebe."

"He's hiding things from you! You said so yourself!"

Kyle frowned sadly. "It can't be helped. He's still my best friend."

"Oh, yeah? Well what if I told you that Stan lo—!" Bebe immediately clasped her hands over her mouth. She shook her head in disbelief.

"Stan…what?" Kyle eventually asked.

"N-Nothing. I'm sorry, Kyle. I guess I'm a little jealous, too," she replied ruefully. "Forget what I said. I have to go."

She got herself out of his grip and walked out the door, leaving a confused Jew in her wake. Kyle stood there, staring at the door for a while. Stan "luh?" What the hell? The Jew walked to his couch, plopped down and groaned.

Now he had _no one_ to spend time with. Great. With a grunt, he got up from the couch and walked to his room, deciding to try his hand at homework. He passed Ike's door and stopped.

He really had no one else to turn to. And, just because Ike was younger than him didn't mean that his brother was any less wise. After all, it _was _a desperate situation. Sighing dejectedly, Kyle backtracked until he was in front of the Canadian boy's door and knocked.

"What?" Kyle heard.

"I need to talk to you."

"Come in!"

Kyle pushed the door open, closed it behind him, and sat on the bed. Ike swiveled around in his chair, giving his older brother his full attention, and nodded.

"What's up?"

"I have no one to talk to. I'm going insane."

"And?"

"I need advice."

With a shrug, Ike leaned forward and listened. Kyle intended on just telling his brother on what had happened recently, but instead, his story began five years ago, when Stan first began acting strange. He told Ike about how Stan had ignored him, then clung to him, then slept in Kyle's bed naked. He told him about how Stan had a secret he refused to tell Kyle, but that _Kenny_ knew. He told him how the fact that Kenny seemed to know things Kyle didn't ate at the red-head. He told him how worried he was about Kenny and Stan getting together. He told him how Bebe dumped him, then promptly told him she was in love with him. Kyle told Ike everything and felt a little lighter when he was done.

At the end of the tale, Ike sighed and shook his head. "This sounds like some serious high school drama bullshit."

The ends of Kyle's lips quirked as he recalled that he had told Bebe the same thing after he had asked Stan out on a "date."

"Well, bro," Ike began, "It sounds to me like you need to figure out how you feel about Stan."

"What?"

"Dude. He was 95% of your story. There's something going on between you guys and it's not quite as platonic as you probably want it to be. You need to figure out how you feel about Stan."

"B…But, we're just bros. We're just best friends. We can't be anything more."

Ike frowned. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"_Why_ can't you be anything more than friends?"

Kyle found he couldn't answer that. He just shook his head wordlessly. Ike cocked his head to the side, eyebrow raised; he had actually expected his older brother to be confused about his sexuality a little earlier. He supposed Bebe had slowed that process down.

"Also, from what I hear, Bebe must think pretty highly of the other person who loves you if she broke up with you and won't let you get back with her until you know who it is."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, either the other person who loves you is either really important to her or really important to you. And, from what I'm getting, neither Wendy nor Bebe's mom are interested in you, but they are the most important people to Bebe. Which means, this person who loves you is someone close to you; otherwise, why would Bebe go through all this trouble?"

Kyle listened silently at his not-so-surprisingly smart brother.

"Look, you need to spend some time with Stan and see how he makes you feel. And that's all I have to say on this."

Kyle chuckled listlessly and nodded, standing. "Thanks, Ike."

"No problem. Now get out of here and do your calculus homework, or whatever."

With a laugh, Kyle complied. He sat in his chair and faced his homework, determined to get it done. Instead, he sat in his chair wondering about who the other person could be, what he felt, and why he and Stan couldn't be more than friends.

* * *

Stan was absolutely miserable. Ever since the party, he hadn't had the courage to see Kyle again. Bebe's breaking up with Kyle had put a whole other weight of pressure on the brunet's shoulders and he honestly didn't know how to handle it. Now Kyle was actively looking for Stan—not just because Stan had been ignoring him again, but also because Stan was the "other person" that was in love with the red-head. What if he hung out with Kyle too much and Kyle figured it out, then figured out the play, then dropped out of the play, then hated him for life, and left Stan to make out with Craig on stage?

Stan's fears wouldn't stop mounting and not being around the Jew wasn't helping. The only time he ever saw Kyle was during their rehearsals at school, which helped, but he could tell Kyle was angry with him. With a sigh, he wondered if that was why their kisses weren't as passionate anymore.

His clock rang and the brunet moaned in frustration.

"TURD!" he heard outside his door, "Turn off your alarm! It's bugging me!"

Stan huffed, turned off his alarm, and began getting ready for school—he showered, changed, ate breakfast, bemoaned Kyle not being around, and drove to school. As soon as he arrived, he ran to his locker to quickly switch out his books before—

"Hello, _Marsh_."

Stan gulped, closing the locker slowly, only to be welcomed by Kyle's very angry, thoroughly beautiful green eyes.

"How _are_ you?" Kyle asked, venom dripping from each word.

Stan chuckled nervously, looking anywhere but at Kyle. "I-I'm okay. You?"

"Oh, me? I suppose you wouldn't know, since you've been ignoring me _for five days now_." Kyle sure knew how to make a guy feel guilty.

"Sorry, I've been busy," Stan muttered lamely.

"Oh, I see." Kyle's expression was deceptively understanding, "It makes so much sense now!"

Stan looked at him fearfully. "Wh-What do you mean?"

"You're so fucking '_busy_' that you don't have time for your so-called best friend; in other words, I don't rate. Thanks for making me feel so bloody important," he spat and stormed away.

"Wait, Kyle!" Stan cried after him, "It's not like that!"

"_Fuck you, Marsh_!" Kyle yelled from across the hall.

Stan could have cried there, but he was a man and that was unacceptable…even if Kyle, the love of his life, was walking away from Stan with his middle finger in the air. Literally. Kenny walked up beside the brunet, having seen their little fight, and frowned.

"You really should stop ignoring him. He's gonna figure out how you feel."

"I know he'll figure it out. I'm just trying to stall that, seeing as how he doesn't love me yet."

Kenny smiled. "You'd be surprised."

"E-Excuse me, fellers," the boys heard and turned, facing a nervous looking Butters, "Can I talk to you, S-Stan?"

Stan smiled and nodded. "What's up, Butters?"

"Wuh-Well, couldja find it in you to…to…_not_ tell my parents to come back just yet?" he pleaded.

The brunet laughed—he had forgotten all about it. His parents were probably still in California waiting for internet. "Sure, Butters."

"A-Also, I wanted to thank you fellers. I mean, I didn't really know anybody, but I had a lot of fun at your party. So, if there's anything I can do to pay you back…"

Stan smiled, glad that he had helped the boy. "It's cool, Butters."

"Actually," Kenny grinned, "We're short one today for the movies, since _someone_ is being a bit of a pussy." He pointedly looked at Stan, who conveniently looked away. "We still have that extra ticket. Wanna come with us, Butters?"

Butters blinked, astonished. "What about Eric?"

Stan snorted. "Fuck fat ass."

"What he means to say is that we'd rather hang out with you than Cartman."

Butters smiled happily at the boys. "Well, in that case, sure! I'd love to hang out with you fellers. When is the movie?"

"At seven. I'm driving, so I'll just pick you guys up," Stan replied.

"Th-thanks, fellers," Butters muttered shyly.

"No worries, Butters," Stan grinned.

Kenny chuckled, patting the boy's back, "Yeah. You're our friend."

Stan and Kenny waved bye to the shocked boy and continued walking to their classes. Left behind, but not minding it much, a smile spread over Butters' face. He had _friends_. And not just the kid with diabetes and General Disarray; two really cool kids actually wanted to hang out with him. He felt humbled—they probably didn't even know how popular they were in the school. They gave off this aura of nonchalance that left everyone wishing they knew what their secret was. What was it about these boys that allowed them to run through the halls screaming curses? What was it about these boys that allowed them to be so close without anyone doubting their sexuality? What was it about them that was all at once so scary to try to enter, but so sought after? Butters had tried his hardest before, when Kenny had died for longer than a day, and they threw him out for being a Melvin. But now, they had asked him to join them of their own free will.

They thought Butters was worthy.

Butters' smile was giddy as he turned the other way to class, hoping that this wasn't a joke.

* * *

Cartman walked to class, skillfully avoiding Stan and Kyle's little spat in the hallway, hoping to have some time to meet her. For the last few days, she had been meeting him behind the soda machine in the darkest part of the school, for fear of being seen. With a happy smirk, Cartman finally caught sight of the black-clad girl by the machine, waiting patiently.

"What's up, ho?" he asked.

"Not much, fat ass," the girl replied, her voice low and angsty.

"So, uh…you played monopoly, yet?" he asked, his words coded.

The girl understood, "Yeah, I did. I've got…_Park Ave._"

Cartman grinned, nearly hugging Henrietta as she handed over the highest caliber of roses that could be found in South Park.

"So, why didn't you just 'play monopoly' yourself?" she asked, raising a delicate black eyebrow.

"Because, I have something planned that's totally sweet. Now, remember—"

"I know, I know," Henrietta waved, "I won't tell anyone. Good luck, fat ass." And with that, the gothic girl left, her newly thinned hips sashaying as she walked. Cartman watched her go, then grinned, waiting for the girl he really wanted to meet by the machine.

Wendy Testaburger.

After unsuccessfully trying to harass Scott almost a week ago—the damn bastard closed his store at nine, and Cartman hadn't realized how much time he spent with Chef—Cartman luckily caught Flora before she left her store and begged for flowers that would impress a girl good enough for him. After laughing for a few good minutes, Flora complied and gave him some lilies. However, Cartman knew that lilies were Kyle's favorite flowers—he had found out one day when Kenny mentioned it as they passed some growing lilies. Cartman merely looked at the boy and hoped that bit of information would never become useful—and he decided on tulips instead. Once the linebacker had arrived at Wendy's doorstep, the ebony-haired girl frowned at him and told him she loved white roses. He promised to get her the finest white roses in seven days if she agreed to a trial period as his girlfriend. Wendy had agreed surprisingly easily and the two had been dating since then.

And now, six days later, Cartman was ready to make due on his part of the bargain. A part of the boy couldn't help but be nervous; what if Wendy didn't want to date him? There were quite a few questionable things he'd done in the past—the Britney Spears thing, the killing Scott's parents and feeding them to Scott thing, the putting Butters' penis in his mouth thing, to name a few—and he didn't want any of that to affect her opinion of him. He nerves became worse as he spotted a smiling Wendy heading his way. Quickly, he hid the pristine roses behind him, trying to look confident.

"Hey, Eric," she greeted, kissing his cheek chastely.

"Hey, ho," he returned, smirking at her.

"What's the smile for?" she asked. She had grown used to Eric smiling at her more often, now that they were together, but she still couldn't quite decipher what they all meant.

He pulled the flowers from behind his back and presented them to the stunned girl. "Eat it, bitch. Got your flowers."

Wendy stared, astonished, then began to laugh. Cartman, confused, lowered the arm that had proudly displayed the roses and watched her. The first bell had rung and they were now late, but Wendy had only begun to calm down.

"Eric," she snickered, "You really got me flowers?"

"Well, of course, ho!" he replied, flustered, "I told you I loved you, didn't I?"

Wendy's smile grew sweet and she took the flowers gently. "Thank you, Eric. You didn't have to. I don't care about the trial period thing—I just wanted us."

Cartman blinked, clearly unused to someone actually wanting to be with him in exchange for nothing, "You…you just wanted to be with me?"

Wendy nodded, sniffing at the flowers.

"That's right."

Cartman finally let himself smile, taking Wendy into his arms—he was careful not to crush the flowers—and kissed her deeply. His feelings of elation soared higher when Wendy returned the kiss with just as much, if not more, vigor. He pulled away from her, ignorant of the love sick smile he wore.

Wendy sighed contently, then shattered Cartman's world, "Too bad we have to hide until the end of the play."

"What?" he deadpanned.

"Well, if Kyle sees us together, he'll think there's no reason for him to be in the play. After all, the whole ruse is that you want to win me over using the play."

…

Cartman could have exploded! He finally had the girl of his dreams—right there!—and he had to hide it? Who the hell would ever hide the fact that they were with _Wendy fucking Testaburger_? He couldn't believe that, even in his happiest of moments, that fucking Jew rat could ruin things!

Wendy frowned, watching as Cartman's expression went from content to livid in a matter of seconds. Maybe she shouldn't have mentioned it, but she figured it would be important for them to discuss right then.

"How?" he finally asked, though it sounded like more of a growl.

"How what?" she inquired, completely unafraid.

"How do we fix it so we don't have to hide this?"

"Why?"

"Because, I love you," he replied easily, "And I don't ever want to hide that anymore."

Touched, Wendy smiled shyly. "I suppose…Kyle would have to realize he loves Stan and then get together with him. And then, you and I don't have to hide."

Cartman nodded, kissing her briefly, before he ran off to presumably convince Kyle that the Jew was actually quite gay. Wendy watched him go, grinning, before reality struck and she realized what she'd done.

With a groan, the girl walked to class. Wendy knew that she'd be hurting her best friend when she agreed to help Stan get Kyle, but she also knew that she may be hurting the very person she vowed to protect. When this began, she thought she was just helping Stan live out some of his fantasies—pretending Kyle loved him—and that it would end with the play and Kyle would be back with Bebe as usual. And after that, she and Cartman could be together and everyone would hopefully move on. But now, it seemed as if the only way she and Cartman could really be together was if Kyle really did love Stan back—there was no way she was going to be able to forgive herself and allow herself to be happy with Cartman if Stan remained heart-broken after all this. But where would that leave Bebe? She had noticed the blonde girl and Kenny getting closer, but it was all so platonic between them; it looked more like Kenny was just a wise older brother than a potential boyfriend.

Wendy sat in her seat, preparing for class, hoping that somehow, someone kind was watching them and would help push everyone in the right direction.

* * *

Wendy groaned, regretting her earlier wish. Garrison continued teaching in the front of the class, instructing Stan and Kyle to "act faggy" so that he could teach students about the homosexual lifestyle.

"Okay, class," Garrison announced, "Stan and Kyle will now show you a typical fag-dinner. If the terms they use confuse you, please refer to your fagtionaries that I have provided."

"Which he printed this morning in the teachers' lounge," Kenny muttered to Butters, eliciting a giggle from the shy blond.

Stan and Kyle sat across from each other; Stan nervously avoided Kyle's purposefully piercing gaze as they pretended to eat. Garrison tapped his foot impatiently, signaling them that they needed to move along. With a sigh, Stan shakily smiled at Kyle.

"He-Hey, honey. Are we gonna go the theatre tonight?" Stan asked, using what he assumed was a "gay" inflection.

"I don't know," Kyle ground out, straying from the script, "Are we? Or are you going to _ignore_ me again?"

Garrison raised an eyebrow, but decided not to intervene.

Stan sighed, "I'm sorry. I just…I need to think for a while."

"Think? _Think_? About what, Stanley?" Kyle demanded, slamming his hands on the table and standing, "Because, far as I recall, _you_ were the one who couldn't get enough of me Friday night!"

The class snickered and a few cat calls were heard, but the boys in the front of the class ignored them. Stan winced, knowing that Kyle only used his full name whenever the red-head was extremely angry at him.

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry! I don't know what's wrong with me…" Stan replied lamely.

"You don't know what's wrong with you?" Kyle sneered, "Fine, I'll _tell_ you! You're impulsive, needy, emotional, cynical, idiotic, myopic—!"

"I'll have you know I have perfect vision!" Stan interrupted, standing.

"I mean that you're fucking short-sighted! You lack perspective and foresight! Have you been listening in English lately, or are you suddenly as good at ignoring your classes as you are at ignoring me?"

"I'm not short-sighted!"

"_Then what the fuck was the point of attaching yourself to me Friday only to ignore me for five fucking days_!" Kyle yelled mercilessly.

"Well, that was—"

"And remember how you were _so fucking fired up_ about the Japanese whaling and you blew up their boats because you just _had_ to correct some vegan pussies about being pirates, you ended up getting yourself locked up in a Japanese jail! Do you know how _worried_ I was?"

Stan continued to stammer.

"Or, how about when I decided I couldn't be metrosexual because I wasn't comfortable in that shit and you—_you_, my so-called best friend—abandoned me and let me get beat up because you just _had_ to be into the latest fad and didn't even _think_ about how weird it was that gay people suddenly wanted others copying them!"

Stan closed his mouth, noting the hurt in Kyle's eyes.

"Oh, and remember when we had that _stupid_ egg project? You got so blinded by your jealousy! You didn't trust me at all around Wendy, when all I fucking wanted was an A on my project!"

"You didn't trust me either!" Stan argued.

"_You've never given me a reason to trust you_!" Kyle roared.

Stan, taken aback, swallowed whatever retort he had; instead, he stared at his lightly panting friend. Had he really put Kyle through so much?

"And you know what, Stan?" Kyle continued quietly, calmly, "Even though you never once gave me a reason to, I still trusted you. So I didn't trust you with my grade—big fucking whoop. Like you noticed, you were so hung up over Wendy. I trusted you with_ my life_ more than half the time. When you dragged me into that stupid Easter shit, I trusted and followed you all the fucking way to Italy. _I killed Jesus for you_!"

Stan eyes widened more, if possible. He always _had_ wondered how Jesus managed to get out of the cell. He knew that, after watching The Passion, Kyle had some hang ups about his religion and the death of Jesus. However, he never knew Kyle would ever go that far just to save Stan.

"I…" he tried to reply.

"And I didn't kill Jesus to fulfill some sadistic inner-Jew needs; so, shut the fuck up, Cartman, before I kill you," Kyle muttered darkly, his glare enough to shut even the infamous Cartman up, "I did it for you, Stan. I didn't give a rat's ass about some stupid holiday I don't believe in. I don't give a shit about all those Hare Club for men idiots."

"Yeah, no, really. Who the hell dresses up as a rabbit and stalks a kid?" Stan muttered, pleased to see the small smile Kyle gave him. The smile was gone as quickly as it came, though, as Kyle continued.

"The only person I cared about saving was you, Stan."

Stan bit his lip, staring at the Jew before him. He really had put Kyle through some rough times and Stan was always the reason. No wonder Kyle gave up on him so easily when he turned goth. Who would want to put up with that when they had dealt with so much other shit from that same person? Kyle was a saint.

"Kyle, I—"

"And that's where the scene ends, class," Garrison interrupted. "That is what you call a typical 'fagument,' which is…"

The class sighed, opened their fagtionaries, and recited the definition in unison. "An argument between fags."

The bell rang shortly after and Kyle sighed, grabbed his bag, and walked out of the room without another word. Stan stared after him longingly, guilt eating away at him. How was Kyle supposed to believe Stan loved him now? With a shuddering sigh, Stan collected his books and walked out.

Wendy bit her lip, watching Stan leave. She approached Eric and put a hand on his shoulder. He glanced back at her, frowning.

"Eric?" she ventured.

"This is going to be harder than I thought," he replied. He shook his head, kissed her forehead, and left towards the auditorium. Wendy began to follow him, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned and smiled at Bebe.

"Yeah, Bebe?"

Bebe frowned, "We need to talk. Seriously."

Wendy, confused, nodded and followed Bebe to the girls' room. Once there, Bebe checked all the stalls and locked the door. Sighing, the blonde looked at her friend.

"I know everything, Wendy," she announced.

Wendy kept her face completely blank and answered with a level voice. "Know everything about what?"

Bebe sighed again. "Wendy, I know you're a great liar, but you can't seriously deny everything now. I already know about how you helped Stan to try and get Kyle."

Wendy's perfect façade cracked and she frowned guiltily.

"How could you do this to me, Wendy?" Bebe asked, her voice barely above a whisper and her eyes brimming with tears.

Wendy sighed, running a hand through her hair, "I'm so sorry, Bebe! I just thought I was helping Stan live out a fantasy! I didn't think his love ran this deep. I thought it was just a phase, like a friend-crush or something. I thought once he got it out of his system, it'd be over with and we could all move on. I didn't think Kyle could actually have a thing for Stan. B-Besides, you guys were drifting. I thought you were about to break up, anyway. N-Not that I wanted you to break up or anything, but I figured it was only a matter of time."

Bebe frowned. "Really? Is that how we really seemed?"

"Yeah," Wendy replied hesitantly. "Why?"

Bebe bit her lip. "Because I'm in love with him."

Wendy's eyes widened, "I thought you said you didn't love him!"

"I know!" Bebe groaned, "But I was lying! To you and to myself. I…I didn't want to risk letting Kyle know and having him leave me. But…but really? We really seemed like we were about to break up?"

"Well, yeah." Wendy shook her head, "Especially after Stan got into the picture, but even before that, it seemed like you guys were just content with each other. It wasn't passionate like it was when you first got together. I'm surprised you didn't notice how bored you two looked together."

Bebe frowned to herself before a loud banging on the other side of the door brought her out of her musings.

"Hel-lo!" a voice yelled, "Some of us would like to use the bathroom sometime this _millennium_!"

Bebe rolled her eyes, unlocking the door. "Oh, shut it, Lexus." She turned to her brunette friend.

"Thanks for being honest with me, Wendy."

Wendy nodded, wondering how this would affect Bebe.

* * *

Stan, Kenny, and Butters exited the theaters, Butters chattering on excitedly about his favorite parts. Kenny smiled and listened to him, nodding appropriately, but Stan couldn't be bothered. Rehearsal with Kyle had been tense and awkward, especially since the red-head didn't even try to act. The Jew merely avoided Stan's eyes and spoke lowly. Stan was grateful that Mercury seemed to be patient with them, hoping whatever their trouble was, the two boys would work it out in time; however, Stan didn't know how long that would be. His newfound guilt at how he had treated his super best friend wouldn't stop eating away at his conscience and, try as he might, Stan couldn't help but tell himself that he was no longer worthy of being with Kyle.

Eventually, Stan registered that Butters had stopped talking.

"Stan?" the shy blond boy muttered.

"Yeah, Butters?"

"Didja enjoy the movie?"

"Sure, Butters."

"What was your favorite part?"

"I don't know, Butters."

Butters bit his lip, stopping at Stan's car. "Is something wrong, Stan?"

Stan sighed and shook his head. Kenny opened his mouth to try and console Stan, but Butters interrupted him.

"S-Stan, I noticed that you've been awful down lately and I think it has to do with Kyle."

Stan looked at him silently and Butters took that as a cue to continue.

"I know you love Kyle, Stan, and now you guys seem to have hit a small bump in your relationship."

"Wait, what?" Stan asked, shocked.

"Well, it's obvious, Stan. You stare at Kyle an awful lot. And, you draw his name in hearts all over your notebook."

"Oh," Stan muttered and shrugged. At this point, it didn't really matter to Stan who knew. The one person he cared about hated his guts.

"Wh-What's wrong, Stan?" Butters pleaded, sincerely worried.

With a sigh, Stan complied and answered him, "I love Kyle, but he doesn't love me and he doesn't know I love him. He and Bebe broke up and now I'm worried he'll find out I love him before he loves me and hates me, but he hates me anyway 'cause I'm a colossal dick."

"Is that really all, Stan?"

Stan groaned, "No, that's not all. Bebe broke up with Kyle to help me confess, but I feel like trash. She was in love with Kyle, too, and she gave that up to help me just because I'm his friend."

Butters nodded, "Well, Stan, it sounds to me like Bebe knew what she was doing."

Stan looked at Butters, curious.

"She knew you and Kyle were really close and didn't want to break that up. She knows what she's doing, so you've got to do what you've got to do so what Bebe did doesn't go to waste…if that makes sense…"

Stan stared at Butters a moment more before smiling and nodding. "Thanks, Butters. You're right. I..I should go talk to Kyle tomorrow."

Kenny, who had been silently watching until now, smiled. "Drive home, Romeo. I'll walk Butters. I think you need some time to yourself."

Stan nodded again, climbed into his car, and drove off. The two blonds watched him go, then turned and headed towards the Stotch house.

"That was really cool what you did there, Butters," Kenny suddenly announced.

The boy smiled shyly in response. "You think so, Kenny?"

Kenny nodded with a grin and Butters tried his hardest not to blush. They continued on their way silently, Butters occasionally sneaking peeks at his companion. He liked Stan and Kyle, but Kenny carried an air of confidence and astuteness that the others lacked. Sure, Kyle was smart and secure, but Butters noticed that, without Stan, Kyle's world would dissolve; Kyle's poise seemed to stem from the fact that Stan was always by his side. And Stan was sweet and perceptive, but he always seemed self-doubting; Butters noticed that Stan could only really be completely comfortable on stage—when he wasn't himself—and around Kyle. But Kenny didn't seem to need any of his friends. Butters knew Kenny was much more intelligent than he let on and was wiser than any adult in South Park—and very likely, the whole of Colorado—but the blond enjoyed staying on the sidelines and watching.

Butters wanted to know what it would be like to stay on the sidelines with Kenny.

Eventually, Kenny sighed. "Butters, why do you keep looking at me?"

Butters frowned. It wouldn't do for Kenny to figure him out so quickly, assuming he already hadn't done so. "I-I was just wondering what you're thinking, is all."

Kenny bit his lip; it wasn't that he didn't trust Butters to keep quiet about it, but Kenny was always the one listening, not the one talking. He always felt uncomfortable revealing too much of himself if it wasn't somehow beneficial to a situation, like Friday morning with Bebe.

Kenny was nothing if not honest with everyone and himself, and he knew that he was secretly peeved at Butters for helping Stan. Even though Kenny already had everything planned out, and even though Kenny knew that what was planned was for everyone's happiness, a rather selfish part of himself was wondering where his own happiness was within all this.

Knowing didn't stop Kenny from hating Kyle for taking Stan's heart. No matter how much he told himself that Stan and Kyle were meant to be, it didn't stop Kenny from hating Kyle. It didn't matter how right Kyle was about Stan never really giving the Jew a reason to trust Stan; that didn't mean that Stan loved him any less and wouldn't make up for it.

A small part of Kenny even hated Stan. As much as Kenny loved Stan, he couldn't help being angry with the brunet for being so _goddamned blind _to Kenny's feelings and still wanting straight-as-a-line Kyle. What did Kyle have that Kenny didn't? Intelligence? Looks? _What_?

Despite how happy he was to help Stan get Kyle and help Kyle get his freaking _head out of his ass_, Kenny hated himself for every time he got them closer. He could've just told Stan from day one that it wasn't going to happen and convince Stan to be happy with Kenny instead. But no, Kenny decided to do the decent thing and help Stan win over Kyle.

Suddenly, Kenny was brought out of his small trance by a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Butters curiously.

"What?" Kenny winced. He didn't mean for his voice to sound so biting.

It did little to faze Butters, though. "What's wrong, Kenny?"

"You wouldn't understand, Butters," the taller blond sighed.

"I think you're underestimating me," the small boy replied.

Kenny twirled that response around in his head before smiling.

"You're right, Butters. Well, it's like this…" and Kenny proceeded to tell Butters the entire story that began five years ago. Butters listened intently to Kenny, nodding occasionally. Kenny was surprised to hear exactly how much he was divulging to Butters, but with each word that left his mouth, his shoulders suddenly felt lighter.

Kenny had never really understood why people felt the need to spill all their problems to those who would listen; but, as he stared at Butters face—which showed nothing but the upmost interest in what he was saying, as if Butters was contemplating how to fix Kenny's problem—understanding dawned on him.

He liked being the one talking, rather than the one listening. With a smile, Kenny decided that Butters was obviously a great listener.

* * *

After a terrible practice with Stan, Kyle had immediately headed home and intended on staying there for the rest of his natural life. However, as soon as he dropped into his bed, he heard a knock on his door accompanied by the voice of his little brother. At first, Kyle considered locking the door, but he grudgingly admitted that it might be nice to talk to someone again and called his brother in.

Ike stepped into the unbearably neat room and sat down beside his forlorn brother. The young Canadian had figured that things hadn't progressed with Stan when he heard Kyle come home from school so promptly and decided another talk was in order.

" Now what?" he asked.

"Stan sucks," Kyle replied.

"Yeah, I know. He drags you into a whole bunch of shit that you really have no business in."

"Exactly."

"But would you really bear not being able to go with him on these crazy adventures to make sure he's safe?"

Kyle bit his lip and rose, sitting down properly. Ike had him and the damn boy knew it. There was no way that Kyle could ever let Stan go on all those adventures by himself. And, whether he was directly beside Stan or not, he would always be sure to be able to help Stan.

"No."

"Now, then. What's bothering you?"

"Stan's been ignoring me."

"Why does that bother you?"

Kyle heaved a heavy sigh. He only had an inkling of a suspicion, but his argument with Bebe and his conversation with his brother were giving him pretty obvious signs as to where this was going. He really couldn't deny it anymore—he just had to confirm it.

"Because I like Stan."

"Like, as a friend?" Ike asked, knowing full well what Kyle's next answer would be.

"No. I like Stan…like a boyfriend."

"Aren't you worried about your heterosexuality?"

Kyle shrugged. He wasn't quite so worried about his sexuality more so than the fact that he had just realized he had a thing for his super best friend, but Ike didn't need to know that. "Not really. I mean, I always had this draw to Stan that made it so I never left his side. Even when he became a cynical asshole, no matter how much he pushed me away, I needed to be near him. And, if I think about it clearly, no one is a better match for me. We've been friends since birth, we know everything about each other, and we complement each other."

Ike smiled, glad his brother wasn't the type to freak out about suddenly finding out he was gay.

"So, now what?"

"I have to see if this is real or just a small crush that developed since my relationship with Bebe was obviously falling out."

"And if it's real? What then?"

Kyle grinned at his younger brother. "What else? I'm going to tell Stan and he's going to be my boyfriend."

Ike laughed. "And if he refuses?"

"What the fuck ever. I'll guilt him into it."

"You are truly a kind man, Kyle Broflovski."

"I'm one of a kind, I am. Pure generosity."

Ike laughed, but sobered. "Seriously, though, Kyle; are you sure this is what you want?"

Kyle frowned, looking at his ceiling. "I don't know. I'll find out tomorrow for sure. But…what do you think dad'll think of this?"

"After what Stan put you through? He might not like it, admittedly."

Kyle sighed sadly.

"But, you know, I once heard some very wise words from a somewhat obese black man that still managed to bang my first girlfriend."

Kyle raised a brow. "Wasn't your first girlfriend technically Ms. Stevens?"

"Oh," Ike blinked, "Yeah. Okay, second girlfriend."

"And her name was…?"

"Sandra Bullock."

Kyle nodded, smirking. "So, what did Chef say?"

Ike looked at the ceiling as well, "Love is easy…when it's real."

Kyle scowled, looking at his brother. "So? 'The hell is that supposed to mean to me?"

"It means if Stan loves you and you love Stan, fuck what our parents say. Just go love each other," Ike chuckled.

"I said I _like_ Stan. I didn't say I _love_ him."

With a shrug, the younger brother stood and moved towards the door.

"What feels more real to you? How you feel around Bebe or how you feel around Stan?"

With that, Ike left the room, leaving Kyle to his thoughts and undone calculus homework.

* * *

With a deep, relieving sigh, Kenny finished his story. For a while now, Butters had sat on his bed, listening to Kenny's story. Not once did Butters sigh like he was exasperated; not once did Butters' attention waver. Kenny found himself enjoying Butters' company even more so.

"So, how are you doing now?" Butters eventually asked.

"Better. I mean, every once in a while, I'll hate Kyle really badly. I'll even hate Stan. But, I get over it."

"Well, why do you hate them?"

"Why do I hate them? Obviously because they love each other even though I love Stan so much more than Kyle does."

"Are you sure?"

Kenny gave Butters an uncharacteristically dark glare, causing the shorter blond to shrink in fright. However, Butters did his best to continue.

"It isn't enough to tell yourself that they're meant to be; you never gave yourself a chance Kenny."

"What do you mean?" Kenny muttered, interested.

"I know you said Stan would try to date you to make you happy and that it would never work, but why didn't you just let it happen so you both know for sure? Why didn't you let yourself learn that Stan couldn't love you that way so that you could move on instead of always wondering?" Butters clarified.

Stunned, Kenny stared at the suddenly wise boy across from him. "I…It would hurt more in the end."

"It'll hurt either way, Kenny. Y-You have to admit to yourself that you're wise and smart and you can read people really well…but you were also scared of Stan breaking your heart, because then that would mean you'd _have_ to move on and you wouldn't be pining after Stan."

"Butters," Kenny blinked, "How did you…?"

"You're not the only one who can read people, Kenny," Butters replied quietly.

Kenny chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. "So…move on, huh?"

"That would be best, yes."

"Why? I could love Stan so much more and so much better than _Kyle_!" he spat out the name nastily, "I wouldn't hold stupid shit over Stan's head every time he ignored me! I wouldn't get angry at him for stupid shit! I would _love him_, Butters!"

Butters nodded. "I know."

Kenny paused. Was that all Butters had to say to that? Not, "But he loves Kyle." Not, "You deserve better." Just, "I know"?

"I don't understand," Kenny finally admitted.

"I know you'd love him a lot, Kenny," Butters responded, "But you didn't. Instead, you pushed him towards Kyle and now you've got this huge elaborate plan built around Stan's plan to help Stan get together with Kyle."

Kenny bit his lip. "Because that's the right thing to do."

"Sure it is," Butters readily agreed, "And I won't ask you to tell me why you decided, in the end, to not let Stan try and date you and make you happy just so you could learn that you had to move on. Maybe this was the better course of action; maybe you should have learned your lesson. Whatever your reason, you decided _not_ to date Stan—which, thinking back on it, probably would've helped Kyle realize his feelings sooner—and now here you are, helping Stan. You really have no room to hate anyone, Kenny."

Kenny stared at Butters, who stared back innocently. The corners of Kenny's lips twitched—Butters already knew. Hell, he told Kenny he knew just then, in that sentence.

"I was being selfish," Kenny finally admitted, "I knew dating Stan would speed everything up, but I was selfish and kept him to myself a little longer. Just until he finally decided he couldn't wait any longer. Then, I decided I would let him go and let him be happy."

"But…" Butters prompted.

"But, I just got more attached. And now look at me," with a sigh, Kenny sat beside Butters, shaking his head morosely. "You're right. I've got no room to hate anybody. I brought this on myself."

Butters wrapped his arm around Kenny's shoulders hesitantly, "But now you know. And it's okay to be a little selfish sometimes, Kenny."

"Is it really? All of this could've been avoided if it weren't for me."

"Yeah…but then I wouldn't have hung out with you and Stan tonight."

Kenny weakly smiled at Butters. "Now who's being selfish?"

"I never said I wasn't," Butters grinned, "I'm just admitting it now before you end up in my bedroom at two a.m., having me talk your ear off about how I regret being selfish."

Kenny laughed—a real laugh—and shook his head. "You know what, Butters? I'm glad I was selfish."

Butters removed his arm, smiling shyly. A small blush crept on his cheeks when Kenny immediately wrapped an arm around the shy blond. "Wh-Why's that?"

"Because of you, Butters," and he gave Butters a winning smile.

Butters smiled back nervously, then glanced around the room and entertained himself by twittering on about the various books on Kenny's shelf. Kenny listened, of course, but a part of his mind began to wander. He began to forgive himself for selfishly keeping Stan to himself—after all, it had ended with Bebe and Kyle realizing what they really need from each other and from themselves. It had ended with Stan realizing how deep his love was and how much he was hurting Kyle. And, of course, it had ended with Butters teaching him a lesson about real love. It was then, right when Butters was complaining that Kenny really shouldn't openly display his porn on his bookcase, that Kenny realized that one starts to recover from a deep love when they meet that person who gets one back in the game.

With a laugh, Kenny decided he should tell that story to Stan and Kyle once it was all over, then attempted to embarrass Butters by shoving porn in the poor boy's face.

* * *

Kyle waited impatiently at his and Stan's locker. He had woken up extra early, hoping to catch Stan before he attempted to run away again. He heard footsteps to his right and smiled—Stan Marsh was heading in Kyle's direction.

"Stan," he began.

"Kyle, wait, let me talk," was Stan's immediate reply.

Obviously, the only correct way to go about this was to talk at the same time.

"Listen, bro, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you and I'm so sorry I put you through all that stuff."—"I'm sorry I got so mad, Stan. I know you didn't mean any of it and I don't even care about why you ignored me or about any of that stuff I said before."—"You're my best friend, dude, and I love you."—"You're my best friend, guy, and I don't want to lose you."

"I'm sorry," they ended simultaneously, then grinned at each other. "Apology accepted."

They shared a quick hug, then separated with a laugh.

"We're such fags," Kyle chuckled.

"I thought Garrison cleared that up for us," Stan chortled. "Anyway, I need to make this up to you."

"Be my slave for a week?"

"Movies today after rehearsal."

"Only if you're buying."

"Asshole," the brunet admonished, but the grin on his face showed nothing but affection.

Kyle raised his brow and smiled. "You love me for it."

"Intensely," Stan replied honestly and the double meaning, for once, was not lost on Kyle. "See you at rehearsal."

Stan walked away with a giant smile and Kyle stared at the boy's retreating back. He recalled that Bebe said that there was someone out there that loved Kyle greatly and he recalled that Ike said it must be someone important to Kyle if Bebe was willing to break up with Kyle if she loved the Jew.

"So," Kyle thought aloud, "what if…what if Stan is the other person?"

Stan continued to walk to his class, blissfully happy that he and Kyle were back on good terms and that Stan had, in a way, confessed to Kyle. Stan finally decided to take Flora's "flirt" advice to the next level and be subtle but obvious about his feelings.

As he walked, he caught a shock of blonde and smiled. "Bebe!"

The girl turned and smiled at him, albeit guiltily. "Hey, Stan."

"What's up?" Stan approached her, noting how nervously she fidgeted.

"I'm so sorry, Stan!" she suddenly burst. Stan silently thanked God that it was especially early still and no one was in the hallway, "I almost told Kyle how you felt and ruined everything for you because I got mad that he was so jealous that you were ignoring him and hanging out with Kenny and I—!"

"Wait, what?" Stan blinked, "He got jealous?"

She smiled bitterly, "Yeah. Very."

Stan had the grace to smile apologetically, "Oh. Well, it's okay Bebe. I don't really care. Actually, I really want to know…what's the real reason you broke up with Kyle for me to confess?"

The blonde cocked her head to the side, raising a brow. "It's obvious, isn't it? You love him."

"Yeah, but so do you. Why give up your chance like that?"

"Because you guys are best friends, like me and Wendy. I'd hate it if I was in love with Wendy and you loved her, but I never had a chance because of you. I figured you felt the same."

And it was just that simple, Stan realized. He and Kyle were best friends and Bebe realized that their friendship was important, no matter how Stan felt. He smiled, completely understanding.

"You're really cool, Bebe."

She smiled happily and turned, walking towards Kyle and Stan's locker, "I know."

* * *

Rehearsals were underway again and, like every other day, Stan and Kyle were in their separate room with Mercury. Again, she was disappointed with Kyle's acting. She sighed and asked them to start over again.

Kyle's eyes hardened as he forced himself to, once again, pretend Stan was Bebe. They kissed and Stan began snaking his hands under Kyle's shirt. Mercury watched intently, but sighed.

"Please stop," she said.

Stan pulled away, a small frown on his lips. The kiss was fine, he supposed, but it felt a little cold to him.

"Is something wrong, Kyle?" Mercury asked.

"Are you still mad at me, dude?" Stan whispered worriedly.

Kyle shook his head desperately, frowning. What was wrong? He sighed to himself, knowing exactly what was wrong. There was no burning sensation—pretending Stan was Bebe had resulted in a lack luster kiss. There was still emotion, he knew, but it wasn't the fiery, desperate kiss from before.

"_Kyle…don't worry about what you're doing. Don't worry about how confused you are. Concentrate on how warm you are in his arms and how good it feels to be there. Concentrate on your feelings. Trust me."_

Kyle sighed again, remembering Kenny's words. Was he only able to be that passionate when he focused on Stan? Was this just more proof to what he and his brother had discovered last night?

"_I like Stan…like a boyfriend."_

He glanced at the brunet, who smiled encouragingly at Kyle—was Stan staring at him?—and Kyle weakly smiled back.

"I'll give you two a moment," Mercury whispered, noting that the red-head had not said anything in a while. She quietly slipped out of the room.

"Are you okay?" Stan asked once she was gone.

"Yeah," Kyle replied, sounding as if he was miles away. "Stan?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you feel about me?" Kyle asked, serious.

"What?" Stan exclaimed. "W-W-Why?"

Kyle merely watched Stan for a while, waiting. The brunet realized he was probably waiting for an answer.

"W-Well, you're my bro and my best friend," he began.

"And?"

That was obviously not the answer Kyle wanted. "And we've been through a lot."

"Feelings, Stan. Feelings," the Jew urged.

"I…I…" Stan didn't know how he could get out of admitting he loved Kyle. Of course, he didn't mind _implying _it, but out right saying it? He simply wasn't ready—he needed Kyle to at least _like_ him first. The red-head was obviously determined to get an answer, though. Did that mean Kyle suspected him of something? As persistent as Kyle was acting, did that mean he already knew? "Uh, well…"

Suddenly, Kyle's phone went off and, with a groan, the Jew took it out of his pocket and read the text.

'Stop pressing—Kenny,' it read.

Glancing at the obviously nervous brunet, Kyle quickly typed his response.

'Why? And how'd you know?'

He stared at Stan, unnerving said boy to no end.

"Kyle?" Stan ventured.

"Don't talk yet," was the short reply.

Kyle's phone went off again and the Jew looked at the message.

'Eh. Died earlier. Still in hell, so I thought I'd watch you guys. Also, you're being transparent. What if Stan doesn't feel the same way?'

Kyle rolled his eyes and replied. 'Creeper. And what way would that be?'

Stan watched on awkwardly as Kyle and the mystery texter carried on their conversation. He wanted to say something, but Kyle was clearly not in the mood. The Jew looked as if he was in deep thought. The phone went off again, startling the brunet—like it did every time in this tense silence—and Stan wondered who Kyle was texting. It could be Bebe; Stan grit his teeth. He'd lost a week to her thanks to his being a pussy, but that wasn't Bebe's fault. He sighed; Stan couldn't be angry at her.

'You and I both know what way. _That_ way. I'd be inclined to say the Backstreet way. Get it? Ha! Also, _And IiiiiiiIIIIiiiiiii will always _watch_ youuuuuuuuuuu!' _Kenny replied.

Kyle sported a ghost of a smile before responding.

'I think I get what way…Ike and I had a conversation about it last night. Ugh, but why, Kenny? Why now? Why…_that_ way? And, yes, I get it.'

Another quick reply. How good _was_ hell's reception?

'You could have laughed, asshole. And because it's time to face the truth, Kyle. You really didn't see this coming?'

'No!' was Kyle's immediate reply.

'Really?'

That ringtone was starting to become obnoxious.

'_NO!_' Perhaps all caps would get through to him.

'C'mon, Kyle! You've let him sleep in your bed naked while you were naked! Seriously, think about that. What kind of dude, who is supposedly straight, actually goes to bed naked with an equally naked guy? You're not six anymore. "Best friends" can only account for so much.'

After staring at the message for a while, Kyle finally replied.

'Why are you doing this? You love him, right?'

Kyle bit his lip, waiting impatiently.

'Yeah, but he doesn't love me,' was the ominous reply.

'So, who does he love?'

'Who knows,' Kyle could practically see Kenny's infuriatingly omniscient grin. 'But whoever it is, I've heard he's got _style_.'

With a huff, Kyle shut the phone. Stan looked at him worriedly.

"Kyle?" he finally asked. "Are you okay?"

Kyle looked at Stan pointedly. It wasn't lost on him that Kenny had said Stan was in love with a "he." But who was "he?"

And did Kyle want to be "he?"

"Let's practice," the Jew abruptly said.

"What?" Stan raised a brow.

"The kissing scene."

"Oh. Uh…you sure?" Stan noted that Kyle had avoided his question.

"Yeah."

With a weak smile, Stan wrapped his arms around Kyle and drew him in. The closer Kyle got, the more he told himself he was kissing Stan. Their lips met briefly, but Kyle put his hands in Stan's hair and shoved the boy's lips against his own forcefully. This wasn't Bebe—no, this most certainly was not. This was _Stan_.

And that made it all the more intoxicating.

Kyle pulled away slowly, gazing softly into hazy blue eyes.

"Wow," Stan muttered against Kyle's lips. "That was amazing."

A smile finally broke across the Jew's face as he looked at Stan's face fondly. There was no doubt anymore—he was attracted to Stan Marsh. The logical part of his mind screamed at Kyle; it told him he needed to freak out and think this through more. However, Kyle stayed very much put, deciding to enjoy his latest fixation.

"Well," Kyle finally said, "That's only because you're so good at what you do."

Stan laughed, his worries easing away. "Makes sense."

"Naturally."

* * *

Wow. 27 pages. I apologize that I couldn't get this out before my self-imposed deadline. Sorry, but family stuff got in the way. I'll try to finish this before the end of October. So, after this, there are only 2 more chapters. Thanks again for all your reviews and for sticking with me for this long.


	16. The Douche and The Turd Sandwich

…Welp. My bad.

This chapter has not yet been beta'd, but it's also been done for weeks, so I figured it was okay to post an unbeta'd chapter up. When Majesticwolf finishes with the beta, I'll post the corrections. Until then, I'm really sorry, but bear with me.

Also, one reviewer said they thought I was a guy. I can't blame them, considering...

* * *

The closer Kyle got, the more he told himself he was kissing Stan. Their lips met briefly, but Kyle put his hands in Stan's hair and shoved the boy's lips against his own forcefully. This wasn't Bebe—no, this most certainly was not. This was _Stan_.

And that made it all the more intoxicating.

Kyle pulled away slowly, gazing softly into hazy blue eyes.

"Wow," Stan muttered against Kyle's lips. "That was amazing."

"Well," Kyle finally said, "That's only because you're so good at what you do."

Stan laughed, his worries easing away. "Makes sense."

"Naturally."

* * *

Stan bounced excitedly in his car, causing the blond boy in the backseat to chuckle.

"Stan," Kenny smiled, "Are you down, bro? Need some Prozac?"

Cartman, who sat beside Kenny, smirked, "Maybe he got lucky and got pounded by circumcised cock."

Much to Cartman's chagrin, Stan didn't spaz out and deny the accusation. If anything, the brunet looked even _more _excited. With a huff, the line backer directed his attention to a more appealing brunette, who was seated beside him.

"Oh, shut up, Cartman," Wendy chided, "Besides, we all know Stan would top Kyle."

Cartman frowned. "No, he wouldn't."

Kenny rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Of course he would. Why do you think it's called 'style?'"

"What's called Style?" Cartman asked.

"You know…when you put together the names of the people who should hook up. Like, when Stan was hung up on Wendy, it was 'stendy.' But now that you and Wendy are together, it's 'candy.'"

"And it's just oh too sweet," Wendy purred, kissing Cartman's cheek.

Cartman grinned back at her, ignoring the flush on his cheeks.

"Do you guys mind?" Stan suddenly interrupted. "I'm trying to fantasize about Kyle up here."

"Yeah, where the hell is Kyle? I wanna go to the mall now," Kenny pouted.

Stan chuckled. "Knowing him? Probably taking his freaking time changing or whatever."

Kenny nodded, then turned to Cartman, "And, really? You thought Kyle would top Stan?"

"As bitchy and temperamental as he is, I figured he'd be top," Cartman shrugged.

Wendy rolled her eyes. "That attitude is the bottom-kiss-of-death."

"Fantasizing," Stan reminded, causing Cartman to groan.

Finally, said red-head stepped out his house, decked in the new clothes he and Stan had chosen and, much to Stan's extreme pleasure, it was the specific outfit Stan was in love with—the red choker, the simple grey t-shirt with the flowing, red design, and the deep purple skinny jeans.

"Stan, don't have an orgasm in the car. I don't feel like waiting any longer," Kenny reminded.

With what seemed like great effort, Stan kept himself from attacking Kyle and gripped his steering wheel tightly. The party in the car was oblivious to the thoughts going through Kyle's head as he locked his door, hesitating slightly as he considered, once more, his new course of action.

Kyle knew now how important Stan was to him—there was no denying it. However, for a while, Kyle wasn't so sure if Stan felt the same way, or if he was just taking Kyle's recent advances as a joke. For the past two weeks, Kyle had done his best to let Stan know he was a bit more than interested, but just when the Jew thought Stan caught the drift, the infuriating brunet would laugh it off.

On the other hand, his still very attractive ex-girlfriend kept reminding him exactly why he had originally decided he wanted to date her. Bebe was witty, charming, and funny all over again; Kyle was finding it hard not to choose her. And, unfortunately, when he thought about choosing Bebe, he thought how proud his father would be if Kyle settled with a girl like her.

Still, though Kyle was sure he only "intensely liked" Stan, a part of his heart ached when Stan wasn't included in his romantic future.

So, the Jew was determined to find out once and for all how he felt about both Bebe and Stan and, consequences be damned, he was going to be with the person he loved…_maybe_. And loathe as he was to admit it—after all, Kyle _really_ didn't want to disappoint his dad—it seemed like Stan was the favorite; thus, Kyle wore what he knew was Stan's favorite outfit and hoped that it would help to get Stan to confess _something_.

As confidently as he could, Kyle strutted to the car and sat in the passenger's seat, taking a curious glance to the back seat.

"Why didn't Kenny steal shot gun?"

Stan grinned. "'Shot gun reserve.' You're the only one allowed in shot gun."

Kyle raised a brow and a soft blush crept onto his cheeks as he recalled the significance of the "shot gun reserve."

* * *

"_I can't believe you're going through with this," Kyle groaned._

"_Shut up. I already made the reservations ages ago, so we're doing this," Stan replied, walking with the red-head to Stan's car._

_Kyle rolled his eyes, deciding to be silent. Stan and Wendy's recent break up wasn't particularly astonishing news—though it didn't explain why Kyle was always just a tiny bit happier when they broke up—but this time, special circumstances demanded that Stan and Wendy still go on a date. Stan had made reservations to Chez Paris (i) a year ago for his and Wendy's anniversary dinner, but Wendy broke up with him two days ago._

_Undaunted, and unwilling to lose his money, Stan decided that he and Wendy should still go on the date and that Kyle and Token, the latter of whom Wendy was now dating, should go with to prevent the dinner being too awkward. And so, after hours of begging, moping, and even a bit of slavery, Stan convinced the Jew to be his "date" and to accompany Stan. Though Stan tried to make it seem like a chore, Kyle noted silently that Stan was mysteriously happy and even a little jumpy around the Jew._

_They climbed into the car and Kyle took his usual seat at the front._

"_Dude, what are you doing?" Stan asked, a little too quickly. Kyle raised a brow and, if he weren't already peeved, he might've questioned the odd red color Stan's cheeks had taken._

"_Sitting, retard. What else?" Kyle replied._

_Stan frowned and Kyle couldn't help but notice a touch of nervousness. "You can't sit there. Shot gun reserve."_

"_Really? A shot gun reserve? For who?" the Jew demanded._

"_For Wendy; she will totally get back with me, so I want her to know I haven't replaced her." Stan replied, though the usual vigor in his "I'm getting Wendy back!" speech wasn't present._

"_Replaced her with me?"_

"_Exactly."_

"_So, what? Me and Token are just supposed to sit in the back seat while you try to woo Wendy?"_

"_Shot gun reserve," Stan reminded and, with a world-shattering sigh, Kyle moved to the back. The Jew regretted ever including that into their "brostitution." When Wendy inquired why Kyle wasn't sitting in the front seat and why Stan wouldn't let him, Kyle happily (though, as Stan recalls it, quite angrily) indulged her._

"_Well, Wendy," he began, ignoring Stan's glare that was, suspiciously, directed at a too-close-to-Kyle Token, "It all began when Stan, Kenny, Cartman, and I decided we needed a 'code of brohood.' You see, Kenny kept rack-jacking the girls that Cartman was trying to score and Cartman was having a dry-spell, so we decided to write up the 'brostitution.' …You look confused."_

"_I am," Wendy replied, "What's rack-jacking? And what does dry-spell mean? And what's a brostitution? Is it the prostitution of bros?"_

"_All very good questions, Wendy. Rack-jacking is the theft of another guy's chick. So, if I was hitting on you right now and took you from Stan, who has been spending all night trying to get in your pants, that would be rack-jacking. A dry-spell is when a guy hasn't gotten laid for a while and always overrides the dibs system. Finally, the brostitution is our constitution for brohood. We decided the bro code wasn't sufficient for us."_

"_So…what does that have to do with shot gun?"_

"_One of the rules of our brostitution is that…"_

* * *

'_If a bro wants to get with a chick, he is allowed to call 'shot gun reserve;' his bros must respect this rule and stay out of shot gun until the bro gets the chick,_' Kyle recalled, smirking. With a roll of his eyes, Kyle realized that, even then, the signs that Stan had feelings for Kyle were present. Obviously, that date was just a cover for Stan to enjoy a mock-date with Kyle while using Wendy as the decoy. Kyle laughed to himself, a little astounded as to how far Stan had gone in the past just to "date" Kyle.

"So, am I to assume this is your way of telling me you're trying to get into my pants?"

"Think I'd fit?" Stan replied with a shit-eating grin.

Kyle felt like rolling his eyes and dismissing it altogether, but instead, he leaned over with heavy-lidded eyes and kissed Stan's cheek; Stan noted that Kyle didn't bother to move away immediately, either. With a gulp, he felt Kyle's soft breath tickle his ear.

"The point isn't for you to get _into_ my pants, Stanley; the point is for you _to take them off_."

With another peck on the cheek, Kyle moved away, wearing a Cheshire cat grin. After a few moments, Stan managed to get his erection in check and he considered what was happening.

Kyle just kissed him, twice.

Kyle just insinuated that Stan _take off Kyle's pants_.

Kyle _knew_ that was the outfit Stan liked best.

Kyle was still looking at Stan like _that_.

Stan jumped, feeling his phone go off. Mechanically, he took it out of his pocket and checked his notifications. With an amused grin, he read the text Kenny sent him.

'Jesus Christ, if it'll get us to the mall sooner; _yes_, he fucking likes you already. Please make your move and _drive_.—Kenny'

As much at the brunet wanted to believe it, Stan wouldn't let himself. After all this time, he couldn't believe something in South Park was actually going his way. Things like this didn't happen to Stan Marsh. It couldn't be tr—

He got another text. He checked it, raising a brow as he saw it was from Wendy.

'Seriously, Stan? He's so into you. You're so oblivious.—3 Wendy'

Oh, wait. He got another text. Stan didn't notice as Kyle checked his own phone.

'Goddamnit, can we please go? The Jew wants to fuck you, yes; so can you drive us to the mall? I have a surprise for Wendy and I don't want you fags fucking it up for me.—Go to hell. Eric'

Suddenly, he heard Kyle chuckle and he turned to the Jew. "Yeah?"

With a smirk that made Stan's stomach flop, Kyle showed Stan the texts he had received.

'Dude, just tell him you like him, or we'll never get to the mall. I actually have _money_, dude.—Kenny'

'Kyle, I don't think he gets it. Maybe telling him is best?—3 Wendy'

'Will you two butt pirates please just drive and _then_ make out at the mall in the theatre? Some of us have plans.—Go to hell. Eric'

Stan's mouth was suddenly dry as he looked up to Kyle's twinkling eyes. He took in the Jew's mischievous grin and shakily smiled back.

"Stan?" Kyle prompted, "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"I think it's the other way around, Kyle; but since you're such a shy girl, I guess I can start."

Kyle looked at him expectantly, smiling that damned smile Stan loved so much.

"You know that other person who loves you? The one Bebe broke up with you for?"

Kyle remembered all too well about the "other person" who was in love with him. Two weeks ago, he wouldn't have even considered Stan as such, but Kyle had forcibly wrenched Kenny away from Butters and forced the all-knowing blond into telling Kyle what he knew.

After many threats—some of which included stealing Kenny's job—the blond finally succumbed to pressure (though Kyle was sure Kenny somehow knew this was all going to happen) and cracked.

"Stan likes you as more than a super best friend," Kenny had said and refused to say more, but that was all the confirmation Kyle needed. Still, Kyle didn't want to be obvious, but hitting on Stan relentlessly hadn't worked out either.

So, fuck it, Kyle figured, he'd just tell Stan straight up so they could all go to the mall. Besides, now was a time to enjoy each other. With a pang of fear, Kyle decided he and Stan would have to talk very seriously later and they may not enjoy the nature of that conversation; but they could enjoy each other now.

For now, at least, Kyle would make Stan happy.

"Yes," the Jew finally replied.

"Also…you know that secret I had to keep from you for a little while?"

"Yes."

"Yeah…I kind of intended on doing this under the tree in the courtyard at school, but…I'm the other person," Stan continued. "I love you, Kyle."

Kyle grinned at the other boy, "I know. I just needed you to say it."

"So…so, how do you feel about me?" Stan fidgeted.

Kyle's smile turned sad but the Jew still motioned to the back and chuckled. "We should talk about it later; Kenny really wants to go to the mall." With that, Kyle leaned over and kissed Stan full on the lips. Stan, despite feeling somewhat worried, happily returned the kiss, wrapping an arm around the red-head. Cartman graciously kicked the back of Kyle's seat, forcing the two to separate, and looked away innocently when Kyle turned to glare at him.

With a huff, Kyle faced the front of the car again and Stan started the car. As they drove, Stan coaxed Kyle out of plotting to murder Cartman and Kyle conceded and plugged his Ipod into the radio. The conversation between the five eased into lighter topics, leaving Wendy more comfortable to ask what was on her mind(1).

_I wanna sink to the bottom with you  
I wanna sink to the bottom with you  
The ocean is big and blue  
I just wanna sink to the bottom with you_

"So, how did this happen?"

The four boys stopped talking and looked at her strangely; Stan turned back around when Kyle hit Stan for taking his eyes off the road. Once Stan's attention was back on the road, Kyle turned back to Wendy.

"What do you mean?"

"Just…" Wendy hesitated, "Us. All of us."

_Cars on the highway,_

"Fuck," Cartman scowled.

_Planes in the air._

"What?" Wendy raised a brow.

_Everyone else is…_

"I see what you're doing," Kyle chuckled.

_Going somewhere…_

"What am I doing?" the brunette demanded.

_But I'm going nowhere..._

"You're going to make us dig deep," Stan began.

_Getting there soon…_

"Into the farthest reaches of our inner selves," Kenny shook his head.

_I might as well just…_

With a grimace, Cartman finished, "And pull out our inner sixteen year old girls."

_Sink down with you._

Wendy laughed. With an amused shake of her head, she smiled at the boys. "So, what do your inner sixteen year old girls say?"

_I wanna sink to the bottom with you  
I wanna sink to the bottom with you  
The ocean is big and blue  
I just wanna sink to the bottom with you_

Each of them sank into silence, pondering the question. What _had_ happened to them? When did Stan's platonic love for Kyle shift so dramatically? When did Kyle start responding to that? When did Kenny become so wise and mature? When did Cartman's racism and hatred begin to wane? When did Wendy start to fall for Cartman? When did they change?

_And I just wanna…_

Was it when Wendy kissed Cartman back in third grade? Was it when Kyle killed Jesus for Stan? Was it when Kenny went back to hell for everyone? Was it when Stan became a cynic? Was it when Cartman found out who his father was? Was it when Pip died? When Pip came back? When Henrietta lost weight? When Butters stopped being naïve? When Craig started dating Tweek? When Bebe got her heart broken?

_Out on the highway…_

When_ had_ they grown up?

_Up in the air…_

And, as they looked out the windows of the car, staring at the never changing buildings, the never changing adults, the never changing South Park, they had to look at themselves to make sure they really were seventeen and really had grown up. Because, as each of them looked at the world around them that stood still, they realized that something in South Park had shifted and they were the only ones who ever changed and grew.

_Everyone else is…_

When did South Park start to look more fucked up than it already was?

_Going somewhere…_

…

Was it when they found love?

_They're going nowhere…_

"I think," Kyle finally said, breaking the trance, "I think 'us' happened seven years ago."

_And I'll be there too…_

"When was that?" Kenny asked, leaning his head against the window.

_I might as well go…_

"When Stan changed. Maybe he was the catalyst."

_Under with you…_

Stan's brow furrowed. "You mean…when I got diagnosed with cynicism?"

_I wanna sink to the bottom with you  
I wanna sink to the bottom with you  
The ocean is big and blue  
I just wanna sink to the bottom with you_

"Yeah," Kyle nodded.

_I just wanna sink to the bottom with you_

"We stopped being the same," Kyle clarified. "We changed. We realized how important we all were to each other and decided that, in this fucked up, horrible, never-changing town, we're all we have. We realized we had to leave." The look Kyle gave Stan was almost pleading. "We _have_ to leave."

_I wanna sink to the bottom with you_

"We have to move," Stan muttered.

_The ocean is big and blue_

"We have to go," Cartman whispered.

_I just wanna sink to the bottom with you_

"I don't want to be stuck here," Kenny admitted softly.

_I just wanna…_

"We're…we're not a part of South Park anymore, are we?" Wendy quietly asked.

_I just wanna…_

"No," Kyle answered, "We stopped being a part of South Park years ago. The clock started moving for us again."

_I just wanna..._

"I think…" Stan whispered, "I think we should hold on to 'us.'"

_I just wanna…_

"Let's stop talking about this," Kenny decided, "We'll just jinx ourselves."

The guitars played loudly, deafening the teenagers in the car to the world outside of them that stayed frozen in time. When _had_ the change begun?

Kenny frowned, knowing that now that this change was in place, other things would have to change as well. He didn't mind dying so much as having to come back to South Park. Something about South Park's _need_ to keep everything the same kept him coming back to that god-forsaken town and Kenny was tired of it. Hopefully this change—this _shift_ they _all_ needed—would stop his deaths. He hoped, hoped against hope, that his Cthulhu-based birth wouldn't interfere. He hoped that somehow, _evolving_—becoming something more than Kenny McCormick from South Park, Colorado—would trump the circumstances of his birth. When _had_ the change begun?

More than anything, he didn't want to come back to this god-forsaken town. When _had_ the change begun?

It actually began five years ago, when Stan _finally_ realized that "super best friends" might as well mean "fuck buddies." After all, Kenny smiled softly, love changes more than just one person.

It changes the world.

* * *

After arriving at the mall and seeing Cartman's "grand" surprise (which consisted of Scott Tenorman and the majority of the ginger population singing odes to Wendy while in tears) the five teenagers walked to the movies to buy their tickets.

Stan, of course, graciously offered to buy Kyle's. "Hey, bro, I'm buying."

"Fuck you. I can buy my own ticket," Kyle replied flippantly. He moved his hand to his wallet.

Stan grabbed the offending hand, eyes narrowing. "_No_, as your soon-to-be-husband, I should buy the tickets."

The girl in booth nodded in agreement.

Kyle's eyebrows furrowed. "Well, since you're not my husband _yet_, I think I should be allowed to buy whatever I want."

"What about the code of chivalry?"

"It's up your ass. Let me pay."

"Fuck you, asshole. I'm paying."

"You know what? Just for that, _I'm_ paying for _you_," the Jew decided.

Stan grabbed Kyle's wallet and dropped it down the front of his pants. Kyle stared Stan's crotch, smirking in amusement.

"Am I supposed to take that as an invitation?"(ii)

Stan grinned back. "You could," his grin widened as he paid the woman at the booth and got their tickets, "But it'll have to wait until we're in the theatre."

"Damn," Kyle shook his head, feigning disappointment, "And I was so looking forward to fulfilling my dream of being a sexual exhibitionist."

Stan chuckled, then turned his head to Kenny when he heard the blond grumble. "What's up, Ken?"

"It's Butters and Bebe," Kenny replied, frowning.

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Kenny sighed, explaining, "Butters and I have gotten a lot closer since that day Stan, Butters, and I went to the movies. But, because you've been spending these last two weeks seducing Stan, Bebe and I have gotten closer too."

"And?" Stan asked.

"And nothing. Let's go watch this movie," he dismissed, then walked forward, ignoring their looks, "We should have another party."

"Another party?" Wendy echoed. "We barely cleaned up that last one."

"Well, we would've gotten it done faster if Stan had gotten off of me," Kyle replied.

"Well, I would've gotten off of you if Kenny wasn't trying to molest me," Stan defended.

"Well, I wouldn't have tried to molest you if you weren't so hot," Kenny grinned.

"And you three faggots wouldn't be holding us up for the movie if you would learn to walk and talk instead of standing out here like a bunch of dumbasses," Cartman snorted.

"Whoa," Kyle laughed, "Déjà vu."

"C'mon, Kyle," Stan smiled, taking Kyle's hand, "Let's go find some nice dark seats in the back so we can make out and completely ignore this movie."

"Sounds like a plan."

They laughed and walked toward the theatre. However, Kyle released Stan's hand and hung back, motioning for Cartman to join him in the back of the group. The others, recognizing that the Jew wanted privacy, walked more briskly so that Kyle could talk to Cartman.

Cartman raised a brow, glancing at the red-head. "So, what's up fag?"

"Why'd you do it?" Kyle suddenly asked.

"What do you mean?"

Kyle looked at Cartman. "I get it now. You and Wendy have been together for the last few weeks, but you needed to keep pretending you weren't together so I would think that Stan and I are doing the gay parts of the play so you can win Wendy over. But, you didn't have to help me. I mean, I know you got Wendy in the aftermath, but this still seems too nice, coming from you. So, why did you help me? You've been trying to convince me I'm gay for the last two weeks and I know it's all for Wendy, but…"

Cartman sighed. It wasn't often that he reached into himself for his inner sixteen year old girl, but it was looking like he was going to have to do for the second time _that day_.

"Listen, Kyle," he began seriously, gaining the Jew's slightly shocked attention, "I really love Wendy. If we got married and she made me take her name, I'd do it—just to be with her. There is literally nothing I wouldn't do for that girl."

"Oh," Kyle smiled, "That's…good. I'm glad you got her, then." Kyle began to walk more quickly, intending on catching the movie. However, before he could, Cartman gently caught the Jew's shoulder and turned him around. Kyle blinked, noticing the extremely uncomfortable look on the racist line-backer's face.

"A-Also," Kyle gaped, not knowing that Cartman could stutter, "The other reason is because, even though you're Jew, you're semi-suitable company a-and I," Kyle almost laughed; Cartman looked as if he had to force this out, "I _somewhat_, though _barely_, value your input and friendship. I…" Cartman sighed, looking Kyle in the eye, "I always considered us friends."

Kyle, well beyond surprised, smiled gently. "What the fuck ever…"

"Why you butt-fucking Jew! I—" Cartman stopped mid-rant, seeing Kyle's sincere and open smile. Soothed, Cartman smirked back.

"Thanks for that, Eric."

"You're welcome, Kyle."

Kyle put his hand on Cartman's shoulder, "I'll shut up if you do, fat-tits."

Cartman grinned. "This never happened, Jew-rat."

With a laugh, the two walked into the theatre, no longer needing to contemplate their odd friendship. They'd always fight and they'd always hate what the other stood for, but they were undoubtedly friends who couldn't exist without the other.

In the end, there is no darkness without light.

* * *

After the movie was done and everyone had driven home, Kenny was a little surprised to see South Park's resident Jew at his door.

"Couldn't get enough of me, could you?" Kenny asked with a grin.

Kyle chuckled, stepping into the poor boy's house. "Of course not, Kenny."

The blond walked Kyle to the bedroom, where they sat down on the decent bed.

"So, what's up, Kyle? Not that I don't love getting to eye-fuck you, but it is a little unusual for you to come here unprotected."

"Actually, I'm here to ask what's up with _you_."

Kenny frowned, confused.

With a sigh, Kyle shut the door with his foot and stared at the boy before him. "Kenny…we never really got close, did we?"

Kenny smiled, "You wouldn't let me get into your pants."

"It's more than that," Kyle scowled, "Stop joking around and open up to me, already. You're just like Stan around Bebe, only more low-key and when I'm around."

"I don't know what yo—"

"It's so easy for you to open up to Stan when it's just you two. Even if Cartman is there, you're more willing. But around me, you walk on eggshells. You've never once really talked to me and, honestly, it didn't bother me until recently; until recently, I figured it was because you were a private person, but you're not, really. You're just not open with me."

Kenny looked at Kyle, silent. With a sigh, the Jew continued.

"I know…I know you love Stan and I know none of this seems fair, but I don't want this to stop us from being close friends. I mean, I don't want Cartman to be my second closest friend dude. You can't do that to me."

Finally, Kenny cracked and laughed; Kyle smiled, glad he could break some of the tension. Once Kenny was done, the blond grinned at Kyle.

"I'm sorry, Kyle. I guess…I've just been really resentful of you because Stan loves you so much. He can barely breathe without you and it was just so maddening to see you completely overlook that for _years_. It was a little maddening for him to overlook how I felt about _him_ for years. So, I guess you just…kind of embodied all that anger and bitterness, but you're right. I don't want to let this get between our friendship either."

Kyle smiled back, "So, what's up with Butters and Bebe?"

"To be honest, I don't feel comfortable telling you—"

"Shut the fuck up and tell me, asshole."

Kenny barked out a laugh. "Talk about paradox. Fine, fine, asshole; since you insist." Kenny lay back on his bed and Kyle turned, sitting cross-legged on the bed, facing Kenny. "When I hung out with Butters and Stan that night, I realized how much Butters and I had in common. I mean, he seriously _listened_ to me, dude. I could tell him anything and there were no repercussions—no Stan feeling bad about not loving me back, no you feeling bad because I love Stan—there was no pity; just understanding. And I know he likes me as more than a friend, but he doesn't hit on me the way I would with him. He just sits and waits and smiles at me and lets me know he's willing to suffer as much as it takes, so long as I'm happy. I…I deserve that, don't I, Kyle?"

Kyle nodded, silent.

"On the other hand, there's Bebe. She's just so..._young_ compared to me. Butters is sweet and innocent, but he can _see_. He can see what I see. Bebe can't do that and I actually kind of like that. Bebe never really knows what I'm thinking or what my motivations are—but she sticks around for the ride regardless, because she wants to know from _my _perspective. And even though she feels bad for me about the Stan thing, it's because she's going through the same thing with you. She's starting to know how it feels to see the one you love walk away from you."

"So," Kyle sighed, "Do you like them?"

"Yeah. But…I don't know. Bebe is still in love with you and Butters only _likes_ me. And I know it's high school and I shouldn't be this serious, but I kind of want something _real_ right now." Kenny looked at Kyle, frowning sadly, "What should I do, Kyle?"

Kyle smiled back, albeit dejectedly, "Honestly? I don't know. I don't even know if I love Stan."

"Well—process of elimination—how do you feel about Stan?"

"I like him a lot, Kenny. Like…this insane amount that shouldn't even be allowed, dude."

"So…?"

"So, like a step away from love."

"Now then, how do you feel about Bebe?"

"Honestly? I sometimes forget about her. Stan's kind of become my whole world."

Kenny smiled at that. "Become?"

"Okay, shut up; he always has been. It's just more in focus now."

"I wish I knew what that felt like with someone other than Stan."

Kyle lay back beside Kenny, smiling at the blond. "Of course you'll know. You're the best guy I know, Kenny, and you're practically omniscient. If anyone knows, it's you."

Kenny grinned. "You really think so?"

Kyle winked. "'Course. I know everything. I'm a Jew, after all."

"You only know math."

"Exactly. And I know exactly the right equation of people to equal a happily ever after."

Kenny laughed again. "That is the cheesiest thing I've ever heard."

"Made you laugh, though," Kyle smirked.

"I suppose it did," Kenny smiled, "Thanks, Kyle."

"I didn't really help."

"Actually," Kenny replied, climbing on top of the very-unsurprised Jew, "You helped quite a bit."

"How's that?" Kyle asked, raising a brow at their positions.

"I got you back, didn't I?"

Kyle laughed, nodding. "More like the other way around, but okay."

"I love you, bro," Kenny beamed.

"Love you too, man," Kyle smiled. "Now get off."

"Not until I get a kiss."

"Nope."

"Well, don't you want to know if you're gay?"

"I know I'm not."

"How?"

"I still find Bebe attractive," the red-head clarified, "But I'm Stan-sexual."

Kenny guffawed and collapsed on the Jew, shaking in his laughter. "Stupidest. Term. Ever."

"You love it," Kyle smiled into messy blond hair. Eventually calm, the blond righted himself; he began the climb off of Kyle, but not before diving down and pecking the shocked Jew quickly on the lips. As he got off, he winked at the red-head playfully.

"I think you're a fag, bro."

Kyle blinked then broke out in chuckles, shaking his head.

"Fine, Kenny. You win."

"Say it," the blond grinned.

"I'm going to kick your ass if you don't shut up. Now c'mon; let's go over to Cartman's and plan this party thing."

Kenny cocked his head to the side, confused, "Did we plan that?"

Kyle smiled, whipping out his phone and sending a mass text. "No. I think non-planning needs to happen on a regular basis with us. You can't know everything all the time, Kenny."

Kenny's lips twitched upwards. "Douche. If I feel like being all-knowing, I'll do it."

Kyle put his phone away. "So, why don't you tell me your side of the story now?"

"What, really?"

Kyle nodded, smiling encouragingly. Kenny, smiling back, walked beside the Jew as they left the room, regaling the fantastic tale of how he slept with Stan and Kyle all in one night. After a small slap, Kenny began telling his real story, glad that if he had to lose Stan to someone, it was to Kyle Broflovski.

* * *

"So, wait, another party? I thought you were joking," Wendy chuckled.

Kyle grinned in response. "We men never joke about parties. Fatass, can we count on you for alcohol again?"

Cartman snorted and Kyle took that as, "Yes; by the way, #JewishMasterRace." As if reading the red-head's thoughts, Cartman shook his head. "No, Kyle. I still hate Jews. But yes, I can get the booze again."

"Kind of convenient how that turned out, huh?" Kenny contemplated. "Scott Tenorman opening a liquor store in the one town he hates the most where his father and mother were murdered?"

"Don't question these things, Kenny," Bebe spoke up, sitting in a corner next to Butters.

Said blond looked uncomfortable. "N-Not that I'm not happy you fellers invited me, but…_why_ did you invite me again?"

Kenny smiled. "Because, yes."

Stan sighed from his seat, looking around the room—which should have been Cartman's room, but they decided on Stan's, seeing how his parents were _still_ out of town (_I really should email them sometime_, Stan thought to himself, making no move to do so). He and Kyle sat on his bed and, despite how much he could tell that Bebe wanted to sit beside Kyle, she kept to herself in the corner on a beanbag that was big enough for her and Butters to share. To their right, Cartman sat on Stan's computer chair with Wendy on his lap—for whatever reason, they decided to let everyone know they were together. When Stan asked Kenny, the wise blond had said it was because Kyle realized his own feelings and they no longer need the "Cartman wants to get Wendy" ruse. Finally, Kenny sat at the foot of Stan's bed on a pillow, casually lounging against Kyle's leg; though Stan couldn't put his finger on what happened between them leaving the theatres and meeting at Stan's for this party plan, he sensed that Kyle and Kenny were a little closer. He smiled a little, glad that they finally seemed to overcome that invisible barrier they had.

"So, why do we need to _plan_ a party again?" Cartman asked, rolling his eyes. "As far as I see, those two fags on the bed get what's going on and we're not trying to break anyone up anymore."

Kyle chuckled, sort of glad that Cartman was so blunt, "We don't have a group of four anymore, fat-tits, so we need to consider Wendy's, Bebe's, and Butters' opinions."

"Well, I'm cool with drinking, but what can we do about the drugs?" Wendy piped up.

"Yeah; like four guys tried to put roofies in my drink at your last party," Bebe scowled.

"M-Mine, too," Butters muttered shyly.

"Well, it's all Craig," Kenny replied thoughtfully, "And, honestly, I don't even think he was trying to sleep with you guys. I think he just wants to make Tweek jealous now that they've broken up."

"They were together?" Wendy raised a brow.

"Yeah, yeah; but after some weird thing where Tweek wouldn't come into Craig's room—something about someone in his closet?—they broke up and now Craig is trying to get Tweek back."

"In all the wrong ways," Bebe chuckled.

Kyle smiled toward Stan, intent on making a witty observation, but noticed the uncomfortable, almost guilty, expression on the brunet's face.

"Stan," he began, suspicious, "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Stan immediately denied. When the occupants of the room only gave him exasperated and disbelieving looks, he sighed and cracked. "I may have convinced Tom Cruise that I was L. Ron Hubbard again and told him to go hide in Craig's closet."

"Way to ruin lives, Stan," Kyle rolled his eyes, "No wonder he was after your blood during auditions."

"You mean after your ass," Stan scowled.

With a laugh, Kyle shook his head. "So, _that's_ why you got so mad at him."

"Well, yeah," Stan grinned, "You're mine."

Bebe shuffled uncomfortably in the corner and Kenny was quick to change the subject. "So, party?"

"Well, the drugs aren't going to stop until Tweek is back in Craig's bed," Cartman said.

"Yeah; I'm thinking the douche bag at fault should take care of the problem," Kyle replied, giving a very pointed look at the brunet beside him. Stan sighed and nodded.

"Fine. I'll do it."

"And I'll come with you," Kyle smiled, "So we can explain this is all a big mistake. Besides, Tweek and I bonded during finals week when we would meet up in the coffee place at around three am."

Stan snickered, "You're such a geek, but I love you anyway."

Kyle elbowed him and stood, "Well, I'm tired. Stan and I can handle this tomorrow."

"Yeah," Stan nodded, "Trying to find Tweek on a Friday night? He's way too paranoid to be anywhere we'll be able to find him."

Wendy smiled, hopping off of Cartman's lap, "We're counting on you two. See you later."

With that, Cartman and Wendy left—Cartman making sure to give one final farewell-middle-finger to the others—and Kenny stood.

"I should get going, too," the messy-haired blond announced. "Staying out this late is like asking for something to kill me."

"I'll walk you," Butters smiled, standing as well.

"I guess I'll walk you home, Bebe," Kyle shrugged, trying to ignore Stan's glare. Bebe smiled shakily and nodded. They walked downstairs and said their goodbyes. Just as Bebe stepped out the door, Kyle turned quickly and pecked Stan on the lips. Stan, stunned, merely blinked at the red-head.

"Just getting one for the road, Stan," Kyle winked, then caught up with Bebe. Stan grinned happily, thanking Jesus. Jesus would later send him a letter stating that Jesus was not responsible for that kiss Kyle had given him, but he was totally responsible for Kyle finding that outfit Stan loved so much.

But, I digress.

After two blocks, the two blonds parted ways from Kyle and Bebe and bid them goodnight. For a while, the awkward silence between Kyle and Bebe persisted. Finally, Bebe snapped.

"Do you love Stan?"

Kyle blinked, "I don't know."

"Do you love me?"

"…I don't know."

"Why won't you tell me anything, Kyle?" Bebe demanded, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

Kyle sighed miserably. "Because I'm not quite sure how I feel. I'll admit that Stan has a bit of an advantage over you, but…I really don't know how I feel."

"About me or about him?"

Kyle bit his lip. "About him."

"What about me?"

"I don't…" Kyle sighed. "I don't love you, Bebe."

Bebe bit her lower lip harshly, trying to keep herself from crying. "So, there's no hope for me?"

"Honestly? There is."

Bebe lifted her eyes to look at the Jew. "What do you mean?"

"My dad is pretty against homosexuality. I doubt he'd give me his blessing to be with Stan."

Bebe frowned, "But then, you wouldn't be happy."

Kyle shrugged, "No, but he would."

Bebe looked away and was happy to see her house was in view. He walked her to her door and hugged Bebe affectionately, but the blonde could tell that there was a platonic sentiment behind the hug. Bebe's heart broke a little, but it completely tore apart when she looked into Kyle's sad eyes as he pulled away, probably thinking about how he might not ever be with Stan.

Once Kyle was gone, she immediately bolted up the stairs, unlocked her droid (iii), and phoned Kenny. Within minutes, the memory of Kyle's sad eyes lingered at the back of her mind, but Kenny was doing a great job of distracting her. She was glad Butters wasn't still at Kenny's—admittedly, Bebe was a little jealous that Butters was getting close to Kenny.

With a start, Bebe blinked. Where had that come from? Why would she be jealous of _Butters_? Suddenly, Kenny laughed into her ear through the phone and she was brought back into their conversation. Bebe laid back on her bed, thinking about how bright Kenny's hair was; how funny he was; how wise the blond was; how _beautiful_ his smile was; how toned his body was…

Bebe sat up again quickly, blushing deeply. Kenny seemed to feel her embarrassment through the phone and asked her if she was okay. She immediately answered that she was okay—probably too quickly—and Kenny decided he would be over to spend the evening with her.

With a sigh, Bebe shut her phone, staring at her ceiling. The redness rose to her cheeks again as she remembered that, while Stan was hogging Kyle, the fun times she and Kenny had spent together had been some of the best times ever.

They even topped some of Kyle's more fun-filled dates.

For a moment, Bebe considered how she felt about the omniscient blond and how she felt about the increasingly-distant Jew. The former—even when she hadn't noticed—had always been there for her. She enjoyed Kyle, but she could never be…pointless. Kyle rarely talked to her about anything unless there was a point to the conversation—she always envied Stan for that. The brunet could always engage Kyle in pointless, "just-cause" conversations. With Kenny, though, she was much freer. She could be pointless and silly. She could be _naïve_. Still, she was in love with Kyle _because_ he wasn't pointless and because he forced her to escape the fate her mother inherited—the sweet, but completely dependent, large-breasted bimbo—and he kept her on that path.

Sighing again, Bebe came to realization. She would have to decide which Bebe _she_ preferred before she could move on. Who did she like more: purposeful, but never free Bebe or pointless, but potentially lost Bebe?

She wondered if figuring that out would change her feelings for Kyle; as a familiar knock to her window came, Bebe decided that—no matter which Bebe she was—she was sure every Bebe she could be would always be in love with Kyle.

"Yo," Kenny grinned his happy grin, looking for all the world like he ran the whole way to her house. "How's it goin'?"

Bebe smiled. "Goes…okay."

However, there were quite a few Bebes that were starting to really like Kenny.

* * *

Saturday had come and, true to what Kyle had said, he and Stan met up that evening to try to find Tweek at his usual coffee place to explain what had happened. Unusually enough, they found Tweek just fine, had a coffee with the nervous blond, explained Stan's blunder, and Tweek had forgiven them and run off to see Craig. About a half an hour later, they received a "thank you" text from both Craig and Tweek, confirming that they were indeed back together; Craig even apologized for trying to steal Kyle.

All without a single hitch.

Stan shrugged but Kyle couldn't brush off his paranoia so easily. Things in South Park didn't work that way and it didn't matter how much the boys grew up—crazy shit followed them _everywhere_; just like the time Stan won a contest for a free day of gaming at the arcade and, instead, the boys spent the day fending off the creatures that crawled out of the arcade machines because the good Dr. Mephisto decided he _finally_ wanted to stop adding asses to living creatures.

He tried his hand on adding asses to fictional creatures, instead.

And—though, to this day, Stan will never admit it—Kyle was right. Crazy shit was around the corner. Literally, crazy shit was around the corner; because, as they turned the corner to head back to Kyle's, before them stood a giant, potentially insane turd sandwich.

In fact, it looked like the same turd sandwich that, eight years ago, tried to get the students to vote for it as the new mascot.

"What are you guys doing on my turf this late?" came a strangely feminine voice from the mascot suit.

Both boys were, unfortunately, speechless. At the lack of answer, the turd sandwich snapped her fingers and three thugs—all various assortments of things that went into a sandwich—dragged the poor boys to the scary part of town.

"I fucking told you," Kyle scoffed, once he regained the ability to speak. Stan rolled his eyes, refusing to comment. Soon enough, they arrived at the base of the turd sandwich, wherein the boys were surrounded by beefy thugs all in costumes of sandwich condiments, lettuce, turds, tomatoes, and etc. Stan and Kyle were roughly tied together and, unwillingly, Stan avoided making bondage jokes. They were put in the middle of the large room, surrounded by strange mascots.

Finally, the leader came up and folded her arms. "So, _what_ exactly are you doing on _my_ turf? Did the giant douche send you?"

"The giant douche?" Kyle echoed, "The stupid mascot I came up with? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Yeah, and are you a girl?" Stan asked.

"We are the turd sandwich gang," she announced, "After the Crips and the Bloods made up, we took over. And yes, I am a girl. I inherited this mascot outfit from my brother, who already graduated."

"A…Are college students immune to this, or something?" Kyle asked.

The turd sandwich seemed to stay still for a second before the boys realized she was shrugging. "I don't know. All I know is that once they went on to college, we inherited their stupidity."

Kyle blinked, contemplating that piece of information. Meanwhile, Stan looked around. "So, who is the rival gang?"

The turd sandwich seemed to growl. "The _giant douches_."

"Ohh," Kyle nodded, "So _that's_ their connection. In which case, we're not connected with them. I just made up the mascot eight years ago; we were in the neighborhood wandering around after getting a couple of our friends ("Friends?" Stan skeptically muttered) back together."

"Are you sure? You're not here to spy on our top secret project?"

"No, but what's your top secret project?" Stan inquired. Kyle elbowed him, glaring.

"Oh," the turd sandwich replied airily, "We're going to wipe out all the giant douches."

"Why?" Kyle raised a brow.

"Because!" the sandwich replied defensively. The boys looked at each other, curious at her outburst. Eventually trusted, the boys spent the majority of their evening playing games with the gang members while eating marshmallows and drinking ginger ale. Around midnight, the others had already gone to bed and Stan and Kyle were left alone with the suddenly depressed-seeming turd leader.

"Hey, turd sandwich, what's wrong?" Stan asked, approaching her.

Said girl sighed, turning to them. "I don't know what to do," she confessed.

"What do you mean?" Kyle asked, leaning against Stan. Immediately, Stan wrapped an arm around Kyle's waist and, if anything, the turd sandwich seemed more distressed.

"That!" she motioned. "I'm missing out on that! I'm missing out on _love_!" At Kyle's questioning brow, she sighed and slumped forward, telling her story. "You see, before our brothers graduated, Dave and I—oh, I'm Cleo, by the way—were totally in love. But then, our stupid brothers stopped being so stupid and, _somehow_, we inherited it." Kyle's brows furrowed as he thought about her last sentence. Cleo continued to talk, "We became these super ignorant assholes and took our brothers' original roles and that's how the giant douche and turd sandwich gangs began. But, I know Dave still loves me and I still love him. However, this stupid war is tearing us apart." She looked at them in a way that they could only assume was pleadingly. "I don't want to fight, you guys. I just want to love Dave."

Stan frowned and looked at Kyle—the Jew seemed to be in deep thought. Kyle suddenly sprang forward, grabbing Cleo's hands.

"We'll do everything we can to help you, Cleo. I promise!"

Cleo, touched, hugged Kyle tightly. "Oh, thank you, Kyle! Thank you!"

Stan blinked, watching. What was going on?

Kyle pulled way, smiling. "We just have to figure out how the Crips and the Bloods ended their war and I bet we can do the same for you guys. Do you know anything about that?"

"Well," Cleo recalled, "Legend says there were two white Crips who wanted to join. They smoked thirteen bloods and started the tradition of marshmallows and ginger ale. However, the Bloods retaliated and they realized they needed to end the bloodshed. No one knows how they did it, but somehow, these two Crips brought all the Bloods and Crips together."

"What were they named?" Stan asked.

"Well, I think they were called Four Legs and Roller. I believe they're from South Park."

"Four Legs and Roller?" Stan repeated. "Do we know anyone who could be called that?"

Kyle raised a brow, frowning. "I don't think so. Anything else you can tell us, Cleo?"

The turd sandwich seemed to be thinking hard, "Well, there is one more thing we know about them. For whatever reason, Four Legs and Roller seemed to be really mad at Christopher Reeves."

As if a rubber band had hit them on the front lobe of their brains, Stan and Kyle realized exactly who these infamous Crips were.

"Jimmy and Timmy!" the boys stated simultaneously and ran out of the old building. They didn't stop running until they reached the comedy show they were probably invited to but didn't attend. They waited until all the guests left and ran backstage where, thankfully, Timmy and Jimmy were talking to each other.

"Jimmy! Timmy!" Stan greeted and halted before the two former Crips. "We need your help!"

"Well, hey fellas," Jimmy smiled. "Sure, we'll help. What's b-b-b-bothering you?"

Kyle looked at Stan and, with a nod, Stan explained their situation. The two handi-capable boys listened attentively, with an occasional question here and there. Finally, Stan finished telling them the story and Jimmy shrugged.

"Well, sure I can tell you what we did, but I'm really cu-cu-curious as to why you're so interested in helping these gangs. I mean, another g-ga-ga-hang is gonna spring from this," the boy in crutches explained.

Stan looked at Kyle. "I don't know. Kyle said we'd help."

Said boy rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Stan. I couldn't help but _want_ to help. It's basically _Romeo and Juliet_, isn't it? They can't be together because of a bunch of stupid conventions."

Stan noticed the gloss that seemed to cover Kyle's eyes as he said this and the brunet smiled. "You're right, Kyle. We have to help them."

Kyle smiled, kissing Stan on the cheek. The Jew turned to Jimmy again. "So, how did you fix the Crips and Bloods?"

Jimmy smiled at them, telling them the story they missed the day the boys had decided to play trucks instead. After promising to _really_ be at his next show, the boys managed to get Jimmy and Timmy's help. Once the plans were set to meet the next day, the boys returned home. Much to Stan's chagrin, Kyle avoided the conversation they _needed_ to have but, rather than press the Jew, Stan decided to wait until they helped the turd sandwich with her problem.

At least _then_ the Jew couldn't complain about having too much on his mind.

* * *

After successfully joining the turd sandwich and giant douche gangs, Stan and Kyle celebrated with the now unified gang and Jimmy and Timmy. Cleo and Dave were even able to shed their ridiculous disguises and immediately promised to only love each other. Kyle smiled at them, admittedly jealous. Cleo and Dave were so thankful, they promised their allegiance to Stan and Kyle and, should the boys ever need anything, Stan discovered, Cleo and Dave actually had an amazing network of people and could be extremely useful. Kyle shrugged it off, saying he just wanted to help, but Stan retained that information should it become useful in the future.

After saying their goodbyes to the gang, Stan, Kyle, Jimmy, and Timmy all left towards Stan's house, where Cartman, Kenny, Wendy, Butters, and Bebe had already begun the preparations for the party. Within minutes of finishing, the first guests began trickling in.

"I'm going to go change," Kyle announced, walking upstairs. Stan watched him go, almost longingly, and didn't notice Bebe as she walked up behind the brunet.

"Stan?" she called and he turned, startled.

"Yeah, Bebe?"

"I know you said you love Kyle," she sighed, "So what would you do if he didn't love you? What if there was no chance of him loving you?"

Stan frowned, a bit confused as to why she was asking him, but he answered nonetheless. "Well, I'd exhaust every possible method to make him fall in love with me first, but if he really didn't love me, then I'd let him go."

The blonde bit her lip, "Kenny said the same thing last night."

Stan smiled. "That Ken is a wise man."

"He sure is," Bebe readily agreed. "So…you wouldn't give up hope?"

"Not until he told me there was absolutely no hope."

"In those exact words?"

"I suppose hearing him say that he didn't really want a romantic future with me would be an acceptable equivalent," Stan raised a brow. "Why are you asking me?"

She sighed, looking away. "He told me yesterday that he didn't love me, but that there was still hope if his father didn't approve of you."

Stan's gaze fell, ashamed, "I haven't exactly been the best to Kyle."

Bebe looked up nervously. "Did you ever get over your drinking problem?" No one could forget the day the class had found out Stan needed to constantly drink just so he wouldn't be a cynical asshole.

Rather than look bothered, the brunet smiled. "Yeah. I just look at Kyle. In a way, it's just like getting drunk."

"Really?" Bebe asked, eyes widening.

Stan sighed and leaned against the railing of his stairs. "Bebe…I honestly haven't told anyone this, but I started drinking because I was tired of my life. I wanted my mom and dad to find their own lives. I _wanted_ that left turn Kyle talked about. I was so afraid of change at first, I didn't know how to handle it, so I started to see the world as shit. But, right when I was beginning to accept change, the world brightened and I felt like living again and, something told me, that wasn't the last I'd see of Kyle. But…I never really found out what could have been if my parents hadn't gotten together. So, when Kyle found out I drank every day just to get by, he got so mad, he almost stopped being my friend again and those idiots from the other fast food companies just didn't get it—they kept pushing me and Kyle together, saying that best friends don't ever abandon each other, but they didn't realize that I wasn't trying to leave Kyle; I was just trying to change. So, when Kyle took away my alcohol and tried to get me to be happy on my own, Kyle became my crutch…he became my change." Stan smiled at her. "I don't even drink anymore, Bebe. This is just coke. Kyle's more than enough. I don't need alcohol anymore, because I got the change I needed in my life. That change was Kyle—that change was how I felt about him."

Bebe looked at Stan in awe, amazed that he opened so much to her. She recalled the verbal bashing Kyle gave Stan a few weeks ago and realized that Kyle wasn't the only one who had suffered—he was just the one who wouldn't get upset quietly. Obviously, Stan preferred to deal with his problems internally and Bebe couldn't help but respect that. She didn't know if or when Kyle would realize it, but she now understood that Stan handled his problems as quietly as possible for Kyle's sake—Stan wouldn't blame anyone or curse at anyone. No, Stan would do whatever it took to keep Kyle happy, even if it meant that Stan was depressed. The blonde smiled sadly—she had never really considered it, but honestly, she didn't think there was ever a time Bebe felt like that; like she needed to give up her happiness for Kyle. And, Bebe was sure, she wouldn't give up her happiness without a fight. Stan had done it for years without a single complaint.

"Hey!" Kenny greeted, walking towards them. Bebe was infinitely glad for the distraction and smiled.

"Hey, Kenny. How's tricks?" Stan grinned.

"Have you been watching 90s shit again?" Kenny laughed.

"I admit to nothing," Stan replied and, with a shit-eating smile, walked away to harass Kyle.

Kenny laughed and faced Bebe. "How are you doing?"

She shrugged. "Okay."

"What'd he tell you?" Kenny asked bluntly.

"Why he stopped drinking," Bebe responded, knowing she couldn't lie to Kenny.

Kenny frowned for a moment before a smile broke out on his face. "You know what? You're thinking way too much. Here," he handed her his drink. "Drink up."

She frowned. "This has alcohol in it, right?"

"Yeah, now loosen up," Kenny replied. "I'll be right next to you all night. I promise nothing bad will happen. I'll even stop drinking now."

With a skeptical glance at the drink, Bebe considered her options. She looked up into Kenny's eyes and decided she could trust the blond. Smiling, she took a long swing of the drink. Kenny whooped and declared the party had begun; she merely laughed and followed him to the dance floor.

* * *

Bebe didn't know how much time had passed, but four drinks in, she was feeling pretty great. She hopped on the table, ignoring the men that cheered at her as she danced. Why wasn't she this happy all the time? What the hell was up with her? Why was she always in that stupid cage of hers? She looked across the room and locked eyes with something green. Who did she know with green eyes again?

Oh yeah. Kyle.

_Kyle_. _That's_ why she was always locked up. _That's _why she could never party the way she wanted to. Hadn't she thought earlier that he was the reason she could never be "pointless?" She continued dancing, wondering why he was smiling at her like that. Did he actually enjoy her like this?

Maybe…maybe responsible Bebe wasn't the Bebe he liked. She jumped off the table, grabbed his wrists, and dragged him to the dance floor. Effortlessly, musically, _beautifully_, his hips grinded against hers; she had almost forgotten that Kyle was quite the dancer. He removed himself and twirled her around, laughing. She laughed with him, drunk off liquor and high off his voice. Suddenly, Kyle dipped her back, grinning, and it took her a moment to realize that Jazz music was playing—of all songs, it was the Phoenix Wright theme from the "Turnabout Jazz Soul" album Kyle loved so much. As if the movement were engrained into her mind, Bebe danced easily with him. As the sax continued to enchant, Kyle engaged her in the Charleston, smiling the entire time.

It took Bebe a moment to realize she'd never really _danced_ with Kyle. They'd always grinded. Why hadn't she danced with him like this before?

The group of dancers circled Kyle and Bebe, cheering at them. Kyle winked at her and lifted her easily. Even with heels on and drunk, Bebe landed gracefully, turned back into his arms and slid under his legs, popping back up. She smiled at him as they continued to dance.

"I didn't know you could swing, Kyle," she said, her words slurring.

Kyle laughed—a beautiful, deep, chocolate-like sound, "I heard from Kenny that you did and I wanted to see if it was true. Why haven't we done this before?"

_God_, that bass was just _rolling _through her; she put more spring in her step, bounced higher in each jump, smiled more and more, knowing this was something only she and Kyle could share. It was wholly _theirs_.

"I don't know!" she said loudly, laughing. Kyle laughed with her, that sound she loved so much, and twirled her again as the apex of the song waved through the speakers. He stopped suddenly and, as if sensing it, she did too. They tapped their feet, staring into each others' eyes, as the drummer tapped his symbols. They danced slowly, almost sluggishly, when the piano picked back up. Once the brass horns joined the fray, they picked the pace back up. Bebe glanced around her—Stan was smiling, clapping along to the beat; Kenny watched her smilingly, though there was a tightness around his lips; Wendy and Cartman were in their own world, though Wendy did keep glancing back at them; Butters, the sweet thing, cheered and whooped with the others, enjoying the show; and Kyle—_God, Kyle_—there was a brightness in his eyes Bebe had never seen before and it was directed at _her._

The music slowed again and Bebe could tell the song was almost over. Kyle glided her across the room and as the song ended, he spun her one final time before dipping her back, grinning like mad. She tilted her head back and laughed loudly. She felt so _alive_.

He lifted her back up as an orchestral piece began to play and, Bebe recalled, that meant that the guests needed to start leaving. Kenny walked over with his strange smile, until he glanced over at Kyle; suddenly, his smile became much more genuine. Kenny took Bebe and sat her down, noticing the slightly green tint her cheeks had become. Assuring himself that she would be okay, the blond walked back to Kyle, smiling softly.

"For a second there, I thought you started like-liking her again."

Kyle laughed. "Have you been watching 'Hey Arnold!' with Stan?"

Kenny snickered. "Is that what it was?"

"Yeah," Kyle nodded. "And seriously, like-like?"

"Is there another kind of like?"

"I don't know. Elephant-like?" Kyle replied with a wry grin. "But, no. I just…_wow_. Where was_ that_ Bebe when _I_ was dating her?"

Kenny shrugged. "Locked away. I'm sure she thought you wouldn't approve of her if she was like that."

Kyle frowned. "Really? But…she seemed so happy like this."

Neither boys paid attention to the girl in question, who didn't have to try hard to listen to them, seeing as how orchestral music was still playing and the wave of nausea had passed. "Yeah, she's really amazing when she's…herself."

Kyle let out a low whistle. "I wish she was like this all the time. It was nice to see her so _alive_."

Bebe grinned excitedly, hope bubbling within her.

"Yeah, she just needs something to help her realize that being open and free like that isn't a bad thing. She's so scared of ending up like her mother, she's locked herself in this cage…" Kenny trailed.

_And dated the one guy who could keep her there,_ Kyle thought, looking into Kenny's piercing eyes; without a doubt, the Jew knew Kenny was thinking the exact same thing.

"Yeah. But…I think it's more like _someone_ needs to help her out of that cage," Kyle replied, staring meaningfully at Kenny.

Kenny smiled softly in reply. "Maybe so." The blond looked over at an anxious-looking Stan. "I think you should go ahead talk to Stan, finally."

Kyle sighed and nodded, walking over to the brunet. "Stan, I…we need to talk."

Stan smiled shakily. "You know, from my experience, those words never quite ended well for me."

"I wish I could say otherwise," Kyle replied. "But c'mon. I'm serious."

With a resigned sigh, Stan nodded and led the way to his room, confident that Wendy and Cartman could deal with cleaning out the guests. Kyle followed promptly behind him, frowning lightly to himself. They didn't notice Bebe and Kenny staring after them. Kenny shot a silent look to Butters, who smiled back and nodded. Kenny grinned back and approached Bebe.

"Do you need your answers?" he asked her. Dumbly, she nodded; after a few seconds, she stood and followed their path, with Kenny in tow. She listened for their voices and heard them in Stan's room; by the sounds of it, they were already quite into their argument. She discretely opened the door a crack; Bebe felt bad for eavesdropping, but she needed to know how Kyle felt about her and she couldn't wait any longer. Silently, she hid behind the door, watching the two oblivious boys.

"Why can't we just be bros again, Stan? I don't want to disappoint my dad, so, just tell me why it can't be easy like before?" Kyle asked, exasperated. He couldn't understand why Stan couldn't understand _him_. The Jew already knew there was nothing to be salvaged between him and Bebe—obviously, he was only hurting her in the long run. Still, the thought of upsetting his dad scared Kyle too much; equally as frightening was the thought of losing Stan. Frustrated, Kyle ran a hand through his hair.

"Because bromance is for pussies, Kyle!" Stan growled back, "And I'm done being a pussy! I love you and I'm not turning back. I know you feel something for me, too. Why can't we make this work, Kyle?"

"I just told you!" Kyle replied, exasperated. "I don't want to disappoint my dad! You know he hasn't liked you since the…the incident seven years ago; when you were a cynic. Besides, you saw how he acts around gay people! He gets uncomfortable when it's in his house."

"He was fine with metro-sexual!"

"Because he could justify it by saying he was still in love with my mom. I'm sorry, Stan; I can't do this."

"Kyle, please," Stan's eyes were watering, despite how mightily he fought against them, "Give me a chance. Give _us_ a chance."

Kyle bit his lip.

"_I think…I think we should hang on to 'us.'"_

"I want to, Stan. But I don't even know if I love you," Kyle admitted sadly, "If I suck it up and pretend I'm in love with whatever bimbo I find, dad'll be happy."

"What about you, Kyle?" Stan growled. "Will you be happy?"

"I…I don't know," the red-head responded quietly.

"How do you feel about Bebe?" Stan asked suddenly, still thinking she would be his replacement in Kyle's future.

Kyle looked up into Stan's mesmerizing blue eyes, hating himself for getting lost in them—hating himself for not realizing earlier how many times he'd gotten lost in them.

"She's okay."

"Do you love her?" Stan demanded.

"No," Kyle conceded.

Bebe's face fell when Kyle answered, all the hope that she had gained just a few short minutes ago flying out of her.

"What about me?"

"I…"the Jew hesitated. "It's…it's so close to love it's maddening. I don't think how I feel about you will ever go away. But I can't disappoint my dad, Stan. I…I just can't. Please understand."

Kyle leaned up and gave the brunet a gentle kiss, then pulled away. With a lost look in his eyes, Kyle turned and began walking away from the brunet.

"Kyle!" Stan cried, grabbing the other boy's shoulder. Kyle sighed and turned around, unwilling to look into Stan's eyes. "What if…what if I convince your dad?"

Kyle raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What?"

"What if I convince your dad? Give me until after opening night and, I swear, I will have convinced your dad that I love you and you love me and we're the most perfect match in the world since the words 'Bono' and 'piece of shit.'"

Kyle laughed, making Stan's heart soar, and shook his head.

"Please, Kyle. I love you and, though you're having a disturbingly hard time admitting it—luckily, I'm willing to wait—I know you love me, too. Let me prove it to you _and_ your dad."

Finally, Kyle stopped laughing and nodded. "Yeah…okay, Stan. I'll let you prove it to me. But, if you can't…"

"You can go marry Bebe," Stan grimaced, "and I won't complain…much."

"I won't be marrying Bebe, thanks. I don't think she and I really suit each other. She…she needs to be free and I don't want to be her prison anymore, but…" Kyle grinned, wrapping his arms around Stan. "Okay. Deal."

The brunet chuckled, his own arms encircling the Jew's waist, and leaned in. "I promise you, Kyle, I won't let you down."

With a sad smile, Kyle hugged Stan tightly. "Please don't. I don't know what I'd do without your dumb ass."

Stan laughed loudly, enchanting Kyle's ears…

And, for the final time, breaking Bebe's heart. Kenny immediately hugged her and, though Bebe knew it was impossible and probably an after-effect of the alcohol, she felt as if her heart was slowly being sown back together.

* * *

(1) If you happen to have the song "Sink to the Bottom" by Fountains of Wayne, I really recommend listening to it while you read this passage. I didn't realize it, but while I was writing this part and listening to "Sink to the Bottom," I timed it really, really well. If you're going to listen to it with the music, though, I suggest you don't read the lyrics. Still, I recommend just having the song. In the epilogue, I'll probably have a list of songs I used to get through this fic.

(i) Stole this from "Hey Arnold."

(ii) I'm pretty sure I may have stolen this from another fanfic I've read, but I can't recall which one and who wrote it. If you know, let me know so I can give props where due. I think the exact line was, "If you're trying to distract me, I'll have you know it's working."

(iii) I am all for droid phones.

Also, if you're wondering why I decided to begin this chapter with the confession, I decided it quite purposefully. I know I keep a very even pace, but I hate stories where two characters quite obviously like each other and they have friends that tell them "you two like each other," but they continuously lie to themselves and think it's just platonic. It's also an over-used plot device to keep the story going while giving readers some sexual tension they can enjoy.

I don't do that.

And, at this point of the story, Stan and Kyle already like each other enough to _know_ they like each other. They're best friends—they know everything about each other. There's really no way they _can't_ see how they feel. Rather than bore you with the two weeks of them flirting and trying to figure out how they feel about each other, I decided to put you all at the point wherein their feelings are confirmed and they can move on. I didn't want to end this chapter on these two boys figuring out they like each other then rush the next chapter. I know a lot of people tend to wrap things up in the final chapter, but for me, everything wraps up the chapter before last; the final chapter consists of the consequences of everything ending. The epilogue is how life continues once those consequences are dealt with. I think this is a much better formula.

However, I apologize for the fact that two weeks had to go by. In that sense, it does feel very rushed. These next two chapters make me feel like I should have paced it better. :T #failure

If you're wondering, yes, there will be an epilogue. It's already been written, I just need to finish the last chapter. Also, yes, there will be a sequel; however, I need a break; as such, the sequel won't begin until I finish another (rather short) story.


	17. The Jew

Well, it's finally the end of Bromance. Majesticwolf's life has gotten complicated and, for her well being, I'd rather she focus on life than on this story. So, I'm out of a beta again :P If anyone would like to take the job, please PM me.

I actually don't know how I feel about ending Bromance. So much was said in the last chapter, that this'll either be a really short chapter or really unsatisfying. I honestly think I've been avoiding writing the end of this because it means I'd have to stop working on it. However, that isn't fair to you all and, well…here it is.

**Bromance is for Pussies**: **The Jew**

* * *

"Please, Kyle. I love you and, though you're having a disturbingly hard time admitting it—luckily, I'm willing to wait—I know you love me, too. Let me prove it to you _and_ your dad."

Finally, Kyle stopped laughing and nodded. "Yeah…okay, Stan. I'll let you prove it to me. But, if you can't…"

"You can go marry Bebe," Stan grimaced, "and I won't complain…much."

"I won't be marrying Bebe, thanks. I don't think she and I really suit each other. She…she needs to be free and I don't want to be her prison anymore, but…" Kyle grinned, wrapping his arms around Stan. "Okay. Deal."

The brunet chuckled, his own arms encircling the Jew's waist, and leaned in. "I promise you, Kyle, I won't let you down."

With a sad smile, Kyle hugged Stan tightly. "Please don't. I don't know what I'd do without your dumb ass."

Stan laughed loudly, enchanting Kyle's ears…

And, for the final time, breaking Bebe's heart. Kenny immediately hugged her and, though Bebe knew it was impossible and probably an after-effect of the alcohol, she felt as if her heart was slowly being sown back together.

* * *

With a week left for the play, the entire school was frantic. Ms. Mercury, especially, fretted about the school to make sure everything was ready. In fact, for the last few days, her English classes didn't even have homework. Stan, who was extremely busy, was eternally grateful. After he and Kyle had their talk at the party, he and the redhead had been unofficially dating. They held hands in the hallways, they kissed at their locker, they emailed Stan's parents to come back (as well as Butters', reluctantly), and they talked endlessly. For Stan, it was heaven. The brunet was initially worried about Bebe getting sad, but the day after the party, the blonde approached him with exciting news.

Bebe Stevens was over Kyle Broflovski.

"What?" Stan had asked unsurely.

Bebe sighed and looked at him, a sad smile on her lips, "Kyle doesn't love me. He loves you. I get that I can't change that and I won't try to anymore. I…Kyle was my safety blanket. I didn't want to end up like my mom so much that I…I made myself someone Kyle would like. But, I guess Kyle and I were too similar. We didn't let each other be…free. That dance…that was the first time Kyle and I had so much fun. But you, you make it so Kyle has that kind of fun _all_ the time. I can't do that, Stan." Bebe laughed a little. "As much as he was my cage, I was his. You, though; you're _free_, Stan Marsh. Help Kyle be free, please."

Stan smiled at Bebe, taking in her appearance. She had cut her hair short, letting it curling about her cheeks. She wore a black camisole and black tights, under a long, buttoned sweater that doubled as a dress with brown riding boots. For the first time in a long while, Stan realized, Bebe didn't look "business-y" like she normally did; she looked like she was in high school. There was a brightness to her eyes Stan never recalled seeing and, though the irises were tinged with sadness, there was an excitement to live.

Bebe looked beautiful and Stan was finally able to really appreciate it.

"You're cool, Bebe," Stan finally replied. "We should hang out."

Bebe giggled and nodded, pounding his fist playfully, "Totally, bro."

Since then, and Stan still couldn't believe it, the brunet had made time to hang out with Bebe. He found that they actually had a lot in common and regretted ever plotting against such a good girl.

Stan was initially worried that he would only have time for the play, Kyle, and Bebe, but was happy to see he was proven wrong. His schedule was erratic, but Stan was overjoyed that it was. After rehearsals, he and Kyle would eat ice cream or take a walk; Kyle would kiss him goodbye at the coffee shop, where Kyle met Tweek and Craig—they had been good friends since Tweek got back with Craig—and Stan would wander to the cemetery where Kenny sat with Butters, observing the various graves dedicated to Kenny. Kenny would tell them both how he died for each grave and Stan would tell Butters how the adventure after that death ended. It took a while, but Butters finally learned to laugh at Kenny's various amusing deaths. Kenny and Stan would eventually walk Butters home before the Melvin got grounded and then the two would walk to Bebe's where they played video games and listened to music. Stan would leave Kenny at Bebe's, pick up Kyle, then meet Cartman and Wendy for their usual double dates. In the evening, Stan would take Kyle to the park and they'd talk, or dance, or rehearse. Finally, Stan would drive the Jew home and try to convince Gerald to come watch the play.

Through it all, an equally busy Kyle had noticed how hard Stan worked, and not just for the play or school. Stan constantly broke walls of awkwardness that could be between them so that they could be closer. Stan kept a tight schedule, but the brunet was constantly texting Kyle. Kyle began to feel like he wasn't contributing much to the relationship and told Stan so, but the brunet went through great lengths to prove Kyle wrong.

In fact, the day Stan walked in, hair frazzled and clothes half-tossed on, Kyle realized something disturbing.

Stan was wrong; Kyle had not been putting enough into the relationship, despite how badly the brunet wanted to prove otherwise. Sure, Stan had put Kyle through some terrible shit, but it wasn't like Kyle hadn't done the same. Kyle sat in his room, frowning at his calculus homework, as he thought about all the times he'd done Stan wrong.

Stan wasn't the only one who was wrong during their egg project—Kyle should have trusted Stan, even if it meant his grade; if Kyle had read the user agreement, Stan wouldn't have had to go through so much trying to get him out of being the human centi-pad; when Kyle was dying during Cartman's grand stroke of luck, Kyle could still recall the pain in Stan's eyes; and, especially, when Kyle abandoned Stan during Stan's cynicism. Kyle sighed sadly, regretting that mistake the most. No matter how bad Stan was, Kyle shouldn't have abandoned him. The redhead recalled the day he saw Stan on the bench, staring ahead and oblivious that Kyle was behind said bench. Kyle remembered walking toward Stan and, after a bit of hesitation, turning around and walking away.

So, when Stan left dejectedly for the eighth night in a row, Kyle felt even more terrible. He closed the door gently after the brunet, blowing a kiss to the boy. Stan smiled softly in return and blew one back, then hopped into his car. Kyle watched him go, then shut the door once the brunet had disappeared. Selfishly, Kyle wished Stan had chosen to stay the night.

"Kyle," Gerald said once the door was shut, "I think we need to talk."

Nodding, the redhead approached the couch Gerald sat on. It was time Kyle proved he loved Stan. "Yeah, we do."

"Why does Stan keep coming here to ask me to see your play?" the elder Jew asked.

Kyle bit his lip. He knew what he had to do; he had to tell Gerald the truth, but would that backlash on Stan? Would his dad take it well and continue to allow Stan to come over? With a determined nod, Kyle decided it didn't matter—it'd just mean they'd be spending a lot more time at Stan's.

"He's in love with me, he wants to prove to you that he loves me, and he wants to prove that we should be together."

Gerald spit out his coffee in shock and tried to regain face as Kyle looked on sympathetically. "He-he _what_?"

"He loves me, dad," Kyle replied, "Like no one else. And he wants to be with me."

"But-but, Kyle! He's put your life in so much danger before!" the elder argued.

"So have I," Kyle frowned, "I've made my mistakes and maybe they weren't as frequent as Stan's, but there were times where I abandoned my super best friend just because he wouldn't listen to me."

"Oh, Kyle, you're being too hard on yourself…"

"No!" Kyle vehemently responded, "When Stan went goth, I should have tried harder to help him! When Stan was mad about the dolphins and whales, I should have given a damn and went with him! When Stan became a cynic, I should have stood by him and never let him leave me! I should have understood that he needed a new life and not have abandoned him just because his way of dealing with his shitty home life didn't appeal to me! Stan isn't the only one who's made mistakes, dad! I have too! I've made more than my share and—!" Kyle stopped, abruptly realizing another facet of his and Stan's relationship. "And…and he's never once complained. Maybe a little, when we were young, but he always stood by me. He never got mad at me and left me." Quietly, Kyle finished. "He's always been there for me without fail and he never gets as mad as I do. Sure, he's fucked up, but he never throws my mistakes in my face like do to him."

With a deep sigh, the redhead collapsed onto the couch across his father. "God, I'm terrible. I've been stringing him and Bebe along selfishly while they try their hardest to win me over."

"Well, maybe you don't really love either of them," Gerald suggested softly.

"I know I don't love Bebe, but now I need to formally tell her that it'll never happen between us."

"And Stan?"

Kyle bit his lip, then looked straight into his father's eyes unwaveringly. "I love Stan Marsh."

"But, Kyle! Think about this! What about your future? You and Stan don't stand a chance in a homophobic world like ours!"

"You mean a homophobic world like _yours_," Kyle interrupted.

"Think about your religion, Kyle. You know it's a sin!" Gerald replied. "How are you even so sure he loves you?"

Kyle stood, looking down at his father. "Because he's—no, _we're_—going to prove it to you tomorrow night, when you go to the play; same place where I'll prove that, with Stan, I'm _happy_."

With that, Kyle threw the tickets onto the coffee table and marched outside after Stan. Gerald could only watch as his son ran into the winter night.

* * *

Kyle couldn't find Stan; it seemed that the brunet had not gone home. After sending Stan a quick text, Kyle walked to Bebe's, figuring everything should be out in the open. As he hoped, Bebe opened the door. The blonde blinked, confused to see Kyle, but eventually invited him in and up to her room.

"So, Kyle," she said once she closed her door, "What's up?"

Kyle smiled at her. "I don't love you, Bebe. And, judging by how you've changed, I'm guessing that means you don't love me either."

Bebe smiled back. "Not exactly. I'm just getting over you. Like the hair?"

"Definitely," Kyle grinned, "It really suits you. I…I'm sorry about the way I lead you on, Bebe."

The blonde laughed. "It's okay, Kyle. Really. We're all confused—we're still in high school after all—and we don't have time right now to regret. Let's just _live_."

Kyle smiled softly. "You look happy, Bebe. You look alive. I'm really glad for you."

"I _am_ happy, Kyle," she replied. "I mean, I was happy with you, too, but I realize now that I can be free and still not end up like my mom. I control who I am and what I become. I shouldn't have used you to keep me in check. I'm sorry."

Kyle shook his head, beaming. "Water under the bridge."

"So," Bebe began, biting her lip, "Can we be friends?"

Kyle immediately stood and hugged her. "I thought you'd never ask."

With a laugh, Bebe hugged him back and looked up to him when he separated. "However, this is still a little fresh. Let's wait until I'm completely over you before we start really hanging out. Is that okay?"

Kyle nodded, understanding. "Yes, it is. I'll see you in school, then?"

Bebe grinned. "You'll also see me at your play."

Kyle laughed and hugged her once more, then showed himself out. He wandered around and, with a start, found himself in front of the Marsh home. Stan's car was in the driveway and, confident Stan would be there this time, Kyle knocked on the door.

A disheveled Stan opened the door and, to Kyle's surprise, the already spastic boy got worse.

"Fuck!" the brunet cursed. "Kyle! I'm sorry! I meant to text you back! Gah! I'm really sorry. I've got this horrendous history test tomorrow and, with the play and all, I forgot to study!"

Kyle merely smiled Stan. "You're dumb. Let me in and I'll help you."

Stan grinned, relaxing. "Will you actually help or just distract me? Either way, I welcome both."

Kyle winked and drew close to the other suggestively. "Oh, baby," the redhead said in a low, husky voice.

Stan gulped, feeling himself respond.

"You," Kyle continued in that same voice, "are going to fuck the hell out of…that test."

"You goddamn, motherfucking tease," Stan moaned, but smiled nonetheless. Quickly, Stan kissed the Jew then opened the door wider. Kyle sauntered in and winked at Stan.

"Kyle? Is that you?" Sharon called from the kitchen. She poked her head into the living room and smiled. "Oh, hey sweetie."

"Hi, Mrs. Marsh," the Jew responded.

"Hey, Kyle," Randy saluted from the couch. "What's up?"

"Just here to help Stan."

"Oh, thank you, Kyle. With that play and all of that _procrastinating_, Stan hardly has any time to study," Sharon said appreciatively, then returned to the kitchen.

"Now, are you here to actually help or to distract him? We welcome both, of course, but keep it down," Randy added casually as he flipped the channel.

Kyle blushed scarlet, but laughed regardless and continued up the stairs. "I'm actually helping tonight."

"I want him to do the latter, but he's insisting on being a good influence," Stan snorted, following the Jew. Stan was infinitely grateful that his parents were so cool with Stan and Kyle's almost-relationship. And after Randy caught Stan making out heavily with Kyle a few days ago, the embarrassing and awkward barriers had fallen and everything was fair game. Stan preferred it that way and, even though it made the Jew blush, Stan knew Kyle did too.

Once in the brunet's room, the boys closed the door and Kyle grabbed the history book. He turned to face Stan who immediately knocked the book out of Kyle's hands, lowered the boy to the bed, and climbed on top, lips attached. Kyle resisted for a few seconds before melting into Stan's embrace and bringing his arms around the quarterback's neck.

They broke apart, panting, and Kyle covered his mouth to prevent another kiss. "What about your test?"

"I'm a jock, baby," Stan smirked, "I'll pass."

Kyle rolled his eyes and pushed Stan off. "You will pass—because you studied."

With a reluctant groan, Stan sat beside Kyle and waited. Instead of immediately diving in, as was Kyle's way, Stan noticed that Kyle seemed…nervous.

"Kyle? Is everything okay?" Stan asked.

"No…I…Stan, I'm sorry," Kyle finally sighed.

"Don't tell me you're breaking up with me," Stan replied, "We're not even steady yet!"

Kyle laughed. "It's definitely not that. I…Stan, I'm sorry I've been such a shitty friend. I always rail on you for the things you do wrong, but you've done plenty for me and you've never complained when I hurt you or abandoned you. I…I feel terrible for how I treated you during Garrison's class."

Stan, relieved, smiled softly at the Jew. "Kyle, don't worry about it. I forgive you the second I see you, every time. I love you, Kyle, and nothing can change that. I know you mean well and…well, I'm just glad that you like me even though I'm a pretty notorious fuck-up."

Kyle chuckled, recalling that he'd used those same exact words before. "Yeah, you're a fuck-up. We both are, de facto. So, how about this? We fuck up together."

Stan snickered. "Sounds good to me."

"However, to actually fuck me, you're going to have to at least buy me an expensive as fuck dinner."

Stan shrugged. "Would you believe I already made reservations?"

With an amused roll of his eyes, Kyle nodded. "I bet you even arranged to have roses sent to my house the day of our dinner."

Stan snorted. "No, dumbass. Chocolates."

"But…I can't eat them."

"It was supposed to be a cruel, ironic joke."

"…"

For the next few minutes, Stan sat quietly next to Kyle as the Jew read; every once in a while, Stan would start rubbing the cheek that had a red handprint on it.

* * *

Gerald stared at the door for a while, not quite comprehending what had happened. Apparently, his son was now gay and in love with his best friend. Well, Gerald always thought the boys were a little _too_ close, but Stan's obsession with Wendy and Kyle's later relationship with Bebe always assured him that they were just close friends. But now…now Kyle was sure he was in love with Stan and Stan apparently wanted to prove to Gerald that Stan loved Kyle. Gerald stared at the tickets warily, wondering what going would entail. Would it mean he would have to accept that his son was gay? Would he have to let go of Kyle? Was he losing his son?

Sheila watched from the doorway of the kitchen as Gerald sat silently, contemplating what she'd just seen. Her son had finally realized his feelings for Stan and wanted Gerald to accept them—she smiled, happy that Kyle was happy with Stan. However, there was one more obstacle to deal with. She prepared to walk into the living room to talk to Gerald, when Ike bounded down the stairs and sat across his father. The young Canadian flashed her a smile and Sheila stayed in the kitchen, waiting to see what her youngest son had in mind.

"Hey, dad," Ike greeted, "What's up?"

"Ike…did you know about Kyle…?"

"Kyle being in love with Stan? Yeah, I knew it before Kyle did."

Gerald looked up at Ike, surprised. "What?"

"Dad…it's been pretty obvious. I mean…c'mon. They sleep over at each other's houses _all the time_. They share food with each other _all the time_. They do everything together _all the time. _They might as well be married already. The only thing they're missing is the actual title."

"But…you're not bothered by it?"

Ike shrugged. "Kyle's happy with Stan. That's all I care about. And it's not like Kyle's gonna run off with Stan and forget everything else. Kyle still seems pretty Jewish to me, even if he is sort of a self-hating Jew. Kyle still comes back home and hangs out with me, helps mom cook, does his chores, does his homework, and then reads Hebrew with you. Kyle still dresses like a hipster and hasn't traded all his skinny jeans for pink jeans. Kyle is still Kyle. It just so happens that another facet of Kyle is that he's gay and in love with his best friend."

"Do…do you think Stan _really _loves Kyle?"

Ike scoffed. "Kyle is high maintenance. You _have_ to love that guy to deal with him on a daily basis."

Gerald cracked a smile and looked at the three tickets on the coffee table. "Ike…You, me, and your mother are going to watch a play."

"A really gay play, from what I hear," Ike grinned.

Sheila smiled, walking into the living room and standing beside her husband. "Gay as in happy, I'm sure."

"I hope so, Sheila," Gerald replied. "I hope so."

* * *

**Six Days Left**

"Where the hell are we doing?" Cartman demanded from the backseat. His words were muffled by Wendy's hair. Wendy, who sat on Cartman's lap in Stan's car, scowled.

"Yeah, can we _please_ know?"

Kenny grinned from his seat, atop Butters' lap with his legs resting on Bebe's lap. "Hey, guys. Just enjoy the ride."

"Pervert," Butters scolded playfully.

Bebe giggled. "As if that's news. But really, Stan; where _are_ we going? And why are Craig, Tweek, Clyde, Token, Jimmy, and Timmy following us in Clyde's car?"

"We're going somewhere special," Stan supplied, "And everyone Kyle and I care about has to come."

"…So who cares about Clyde?" Cartman eventually asked.

"He's been with us forever," Kyle replied, "He's our friend."

"Beside, dude, he's Token's best friend. We couldn't not invite him," Stan replied.

"Who the hell invited Token?" Cartman pouted; he ignored Wendy's giggling.

"I did," Stan sighed. "He's my running back, man. We got close."

"How do I know he won't try to steal Wendy from me?"

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Token is dating a girl named Shayna who's from his own class."

"You mean she's black?" Cartman asked.

"That's not what I meant!" Kyle retorted. "She's _rich_, dumbass, so she's not using him for his money like Red was."

Bebe sighed. "I can't believe she turned out to be such a user."

"You think you know a girl," Stan grinned, looking at Bebe through his rearview mirror. The blonde smiled back.

Finally, Stan's car pulled to a stop, Clyde stopping a few feet behind them. The mass of teenagers ambled out of their cars and followed the quarterback to a familiar grave.

**Here Lies Jerome "Chef" McElroy**

**He was an awesome cook.**

**Season 1—Season 10**

The teens gathered around the grave, gazing at it tenderly.

"Hey, Chef," Stan suddenly greeted. The others looked at him inquiringly. Eventually, Kyle smiled and elbowed Kenny and Cartman gently. Once the other two got the hint, Kyle turned to Stan again and nodded.

"Hey, Chef," the four boys said in unison.

"Hey, Chef," the others chorused.

_Hello there, children!_ _How's it going?_

Stan smiled. "Great, Chef. Our play is in a few days. You should come watch, if you can."

_I'll see what I can do, Stan._

"Stan and I are the other leads," Kyle grinned. "We're also dating."

_About damn time, Kyle_.

Kyle laughed.

"I haven't died in a while!" Kenny announced proudly. "And my family finally stopped making meth. There's not even any more alcohol in house. My little sister is a lot happier."

_I'm so glad to hear that, Kenny!_

"I cut my hair," Bebe shrugged. "I think it looks cuter short."

_It does look nice, Bebe. I'm happy to see you're finally out of your shell._

"Wendy and I are dating," Cartman smirked. "Looks like you were right."

"I hear you had a lot to do with Cartman finally asking me out," Wendy smiled. "Thank you, Chef."

_You're welcome, Cartman, Wendy. I'm glad you're so happy._

"My parents don't ground me as often no more," Butters smiled shakily, "I even finally convinced them that I'm not an undead abomination. I may come to you for advice later, though, Chef."

_I'll be looking forward to it, Butters. I'm glad to see you've grown up so well._

"My c-c-comedy show was a hit! And Jimmy and I successfully joined another gang together and ended another era of ignorance."

"Timmy!"

_I'm proud of you, Timmy and Jimmy. Keep up the good work! And don't worry, Timmy. That girl is crazy about you._

"I finally stopped giving everyone middle fingers, but now people think there's something wrong with me. Still, as long as I have Tweek, I'm okay with it."

_That's good, Craig. You deserve to be happy_.

"Augh! I…I mean, I'm still scared of you coming out of your grave and attacking me, b-but I'm really glad I came to see you, Chef! And…I feel a lot safer with Craig holding my hand."

_Tweek, stop drinking so much coffee; still, I'm happy you're happy. Especially if you tamed Craig._

"I met this beautiful, black girl named Shayna. She's rich too, but she likes just walking in the park with me and sitting on the swings. She's the best. I think I'm falling in love with her."

_The black community never lets you down, brother. Good for you, Token._

"I…uh…I'm just glad we're all still friends. I didn't think we'd even remember each others' names at this point. Thanks, Chef."

_Clyde, you always were a sweet boy. Don't change._

Having said what they needed to, they each placed a flower on Chef's grave from the bouquet Stan bought from Flora's. Once done, the teens stood around awkwardly, wondering what to do next. Finally, Kyle grinned, took off his shoes, and sat beside Chef's grave.

"I don't know about you guys," he explained, "But I'm not done talking to Chef. There's a whole lot of crap he needs to be caught up on."

Collective shrugs passed through the group and they all took off their shoes, sat beside the highly decorated grave, and talked to Chef about what had changed and how much they wished he was around.

_Thank you, children, _the wind patted each of them on the head or shoulder, _it's good to know I'm so loved._

* * *

**Five Days Left**

"Oh, Romeo! Why are you a Montague? What's in a last name, anyway? It's not arm or a leg or any part of a man that's important!"

"Like his penis. That's what she means, right?" Cartman interrupted, smirking.

Wendy smirked back and smacked her boyfriend lightly with the script. "Oh, shut up. You make that joke every time I practice that line. I hope you don't actually do it on stage."

"I'm very tempted to."

Wendy giggled. "Like it matters. We're just the side-show at this point. Everyone wants to see the sexual tension between Stan and Kyle."

Cartman shrugged, pulling her onto his lap. "Who cares? As long as you're mine. I was tempted to drop out of the play after you and I became official, but I knew you'd kill me and there's no way I'd let any other guy kiss you."

"Aw, you're so sweet, in your own twisted way." She kissed him sweetly. "Does your mom know I'm here?"

"Please. She's already asking when we'll have her grandkids."

Wendy laughed. "Tell her after my sophomore year of college."

"What college are we going to, by the way?"

The brunette smiled. "You…want to go to the same college as me?"

"Wendy," Cartman said seriously, "I will follow you to the ends of the earth. A college really is nothing compared to the whole earth."

She hugged him. "Let's compromise, okay? I pick my top five, you pick your top five, and if we happen to have on in common, we go to that one."

"Even if it's a community college?" Cartman jokingly asked.

"Even if." Wendy replied, "I'd follow you to the ends of the earth, too, Eric Cartman."

Cartman smiled gently, hugging her closer.

"Like a proper bitch."

"Shut the fuck up and hug me, fat-tits, before I kick your ass."

"Yes, my love," Cartman laughed.

* * *

**Four Days Left**

Butters was surprised to see Bebe in the gym that morning and even more surprised when the blonde invited him over for a game of ping pong. Experience and his own small encounters with her had taught Butters that Bebe was a genuinely good person who didn't fight dirty for what she wanted and who conceded when she realized she was defeated.

He hoped she'd concede just as peacefully when it came to Kenny.

Butters wasn't as good as Kenny, but Butters could definitely hide his feelings really well—so well, that Kenny only thought Butters _liked_ the other blond boy. No, Butters was quite sure he was in _love_ with Kenny. He'd told Chef as much and Chef had merely told him to follow his heart; but, if he didn't want to take as long as Stan had (who still wasn't even going steady with Kyle), then it was probably a good idea to just straight up tell Kenny.

"Hey, Bebe," he greeted, setting aside his own thoughts. "How're you doin'?"

"Fine," smiled Bebe, "You?"

"Pretty good. I didn't know you played table tennis."

"Yeah, I've been playing for a while. Do you play often?"

"I play tennis," Butters replied kindly, "but I think table tennis is about the same. Just smaller."

"Better be careful not to hit the ball out of bounds, then," Bebe grinned.

Butters laughed. "I'll do my best."

They played in silence for a while; Butters' experience with tennis gave him an edge, but he was used to a larger playing field and often hit the ball so well that it didn't even touch the table. Bebe wasn't as good as Butters, but she was already used to ping pong and was able to score some points where Butters missed. The scores were even for a while and it wasn't until they took a pizza break that Bebe decided to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

"So, you like Kenny, right?"

"Yes," Butters immediately replied. "Do you?"

"I like him a lot, yes."

"So…What do we do?"

Bebe smiled. "Nothing. We do what we always do and whoever he likes best is whoever should be with him."

Butters smiled back. "What if he makes the wrong decision?"

"It's Kenny. I'm pretty sure he's so omniscient because he's gone to hell so many times; he can just ask Satan what's going to happen. I doubt he'll make the wrong choice."

"What if the wrong choice is you?"

Bebe shrugged. "Then the right choice is you and I move on. But I hope you know," she smirked, "Kenny's helped me through some profound shit and I'm not about to give him up so easily."

Butters smirked back. "Well, then, I should hope so; otherwise, you wouldn't be a worthy opponent, now would you?"

They laughed and shook hands, the conversation coasting onto lighter topics. Eventually, Kenny walked into the pizza parlor with Clyde, surprised to see his two suitors chatting so amiably. With a shrug, Kenny walked over, Clyde behind him, and joined their table.

If he was going to be in a love triangle, at least it was a friendly triangle.

* * *

**Three Days Left**

Stan walked into Flora's shop, smiling happily. He waited until the blonde turned and greeted her.

"Hey, Stan!" she grinned. "Nice of you to drop by. How goes?"

"Oh, man, Flora," Stan began, "Kyle and I are dating, Bebe is cool with it and moving on, Butters and Bebe are crushing on Kenny, Wendy and Cartman are together and I'm just waiting for my wedding invitation, and Kyle says his dad is coming to the play so I can prove to Kyle's dad just how much I love him!"

Flora laughed. "Wow. And to think, just a couple months ago, you can in here to buy flowers for Kyle so that you could announce your undying love to him."

Stan nodded, nostalgic. "Yeah…Thanks for helping me, Flora."

The woman shrugged. "Hey, it's what I do. You run a flower shop and people naturally come in here with their romance problems."

"You're good at giving advice, Flora."

"Yeah, I'm thinking of having my own advice column in the paper."

"Sounds like a plan. Oh, hey," Stan reached into his pocket, "I have an extra ticket to our play. Did you want to come and see it?"

Flora beamed, taking the ticket. "I'd be honored. Thanks, Stan."

"No worries," the brunet replied. "So how about you, Flora? You help us all with our problems; how's your love life?"

Flora laughed. "Oh, Stan. Don't worry about it. I've got a lovely guy and we're engaged."

"That's good to hear. Makes sense that you've got it good."

Flora smiled a winning smile, "Naturally."

* * *

**Two Days Left**

Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman all sat in a bench on the mall, watching people as they walked by. The boys decided that, what with their girlfriends (or boyfriends or suitors or what-the-hell-ever), they didn't have much time to hang out. So, they ditched the girls—Cartman tried to insist Kyle was a girl, then shut up when Kyle threatened to punch him—and hung out at the mall. At first, they intended to go shopping, but that seemed gay. As a result, they sat on the bench in front of the busiest intersection in the mall, snarking at the passersby.

Currently, they were playing the "gay sway" game.

"That guy over there is totally gay. Look at the way he sways his hips, dude." Kyle affirmed.

"Yeah, that guy is a total fag," Stan agreed.

Cartman scoffed. "You're just agreeing with everything the Jew-rat says so you can get laid."

Kenny nodded. "Probably true, but that guy does walk like a fag."

"Besides, I don't mind if he agrees with me. What else is sex for?" Kyle joked.

Cartman rolled his eyes.

They spent the rest of their day making fun of the people who walked by them, eating junk food, playing video games at Stan's, eating dinner at Cartman's, and looking through porn magazines at Kenny's. They talked the entire time about inconsequential things, like how no matter how good friend chicken was, it was shitty without gravy. They had a KFC run, because Cartman hadn't had his fix in days.

For the whole day, they were boys. They were Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Kenny McCormick, and Eric Cartman; they were four boys dicking around on a lazy day.

Then Wendy called them, yelling angrily about how they skipped school and were late for rehearsals; after a few collective moans, they decided to run to school.

"Hey," Kyle panted as he ran, "I hope we stay friends forever."

"Dude," Stan replied, huffing, "Gay."

"Fag," Cartman muttered.

Kenny just grinned.

And it meant that, yes, they were going to be friends forever.

* * *

**One Day Left**

Stan sat lazily on his couch, Kyle cuddled up next to him. As much as Stan loved his family and not having bills, he couldn't wait until he, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman all got the house they had their eye on for college; that way, they could all party and, on their more tame nights, Stan could cuddle up with Kyle on the couch in their own place.

Stan honestly didn't mind where he was, as long as Kyle was there.

"So," Stan spoke, disturbing the comfortable silence, "What will our son's name be?"

"Caesar," Kyle replied easily.

"Awesome," Stan nodded. "Daughter?"

"Maria del Mar. Marimar for short."

"Why?"

"I liked that novela."

Stan shrugged, smiling. "Cool. Remind me to watch it."

"You'll love it. She gets her revenge on those rich assholes."

"I love you, Kyle."

Kyle grinned. "Wanna watch _Interstella 5555_?"

Stan kissed the Jew. "I'll get the tissues, babe."

Kyle watching him go, smiling.

"I'll prove I love you, Stan," Kyle whispered to himself.

"Ready to cry like a bitch?" Stan called from upstairs.

Kyle laughed. "I don't cry that much."

Stan snorted, sitting the tissues on the coffee table and putting the DVD in. "You make the Trail of Tears look dry."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "You know, if another 'Native American' comes in here with a gun and forces me to write and apology for what you just said, I'm holding you wholly responsible."

Stan snickered. "Whatever. We'll ask Thor to help."

"I'm pretty sure his name wasn't Thor," Kyle smiled. "And we'd need Natalie Portman, first."

"It's cool. I've seen your cell phone. She still calls you."

Kyle shook his head. "I keep asking her not to open her worm hole."

Stan just laughed.

* * *

Gerald, Sheila, and Ike slid into their seats after the lights in the lobby went off, signaling that the play was to begin. Ike was honestly surprised to see that the theatre department had enough money for that. Randy and Sharon sat beside Gerald and Sheila, waving silent hellos with smiles. Shelley sat down too, smiling a little to herself. Lianne Cartman sat on Ike's side, jumping excitedly about her baby's first play as a main character. Though none of the children could see him, South Park's teenage population smiled as they felt the warm presence of Chef in the audience, encouraging them. The whole of South Parks' parents entered the stadium-styled audience seating and found seats where they could. Flora sat in her seat, smiling excitedly, hoping that something great would happen. The entire seating area flooded, as word of a gay part in the play had attracted many people. Haughtily, Garrison sat beside Mercury.

"Oh, I hope everything goes all right," Mercury muttered. "Maybe I should go help the stage manager!"

Garrison rolled his eyes. "Oh, get your panties out of your knot. They'll do fine. I'm sure they'll even surprise us."

Mercury raised a brow, but decided to listen. The lights dimmed and she sat back, hoping for the best.

The curtains opened wide, revealing a stage set in old Elizabethan times. Clyde stood in the center of the stage, wearing the appropriate frock.

"Two families fight all the time. But, like, the kids of these families meet. But, if they hook up, it's a crime. Romeo and Juliet decide to be discreet. These star-crossed lovers form a plan; they'll elope together and marry. However, the fates are a bitch, man; the end of this tale is anything but merry. Little do Romeo and Juliet know—there was once a love as forbidden as theirs. Their fathers know love as well as they know woe, because of a love these men once shared. Hehe, fags."

Clyde walked off the stage and the play began with Capulet and Montague meeting at night, at the fountain.

"Oh, Montague," Kyle sighed, "I don't want to get married, bro. What if she uses my money to buy stupid shit? It's bad enough I have to deal with some woman and listen to her stupid motherfucking problems."

Stan nodded empathetically. "I know, bro, I know. Women are only good for one thing and, half the time, they're not even good at _that_. I wish…" Stan looked away shyly, as if not to scare his company. "I wish…it were cool for two _bros_ to be together…l-like a man and wife."

Kyle laughed. "Yeah, that'd be easy. We wouldn't fight over stupid shit like whether or not you look fat in that dress." Kyle glanced at Stan. "Which you do, by the way."

Stan grinned. "You spoil me."

"And we wouldn't have bad handjobs. We've been practicing them all our lives."

"I assure you, bro, I am the best at handjobs."

"And we don't have to worry about one of us bitching about spending time with each other; when we want to be together, we'll be together. When we don't, it's cool to have our own thing. Men just _get_ other men, bro."

"Totes, bro," Stan nodded, inconspicuously sliding closer to Kyle. "Totes magotes."

Kyle grinned, turning to Stan—abruptly, he noticed how close the other man was. "Uh…Capulet? You okay, dude?"

Stan bit his lip. "Do…Do you really think it's cool to just be with your bro?"

Kyle cracked a smile. "In theory, yes. But we'd have to have sex at some point."

"We can."

Kyle finally frowned. "Bro…what are you trying to tell me?"

Stan sighed, resigned. "I love you, Montague. I really do. I don't just mean it as a joke…I want to be with you." With that, Stan leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Kyle's lips. Kyle, eyes wide and frozen, made no move to kiss back. Stan sighed, pressed his lips harder against the others' briefly, then pulled away.

"Sorry, bro. I'll never bother you again." With that, Stan stood and began to walk offstage.

"Wait!" Kyle called. Stan turned, dejected.

"I…Can you…Can we try that again?" Kyle finally asked.

With a raised bro, Stan approached Kyle. "I love you, Montague. I really do."

Kyle smiled back this time. "I love you, too, Capulet. I always have."

"Why did you freeze on me then?" Stan wrapped his arms around Kyle's waist, drawing him near.

"Because, bro. You try dealing with the fact that the guy you've been in love with for years kisses you and you're not dreaming."

Stan laughed, hugging Kyle tightly. "This isn't a dream. I love you."

Kyle grinned. "This isn't a dream…I love you, too."

The curtains closed.

* * *

The play had been running swimmingly. No one tripped over their lines and no scenes were skipped. So far, Capulet and Montague's relationship had failed due to bigotry and jealousy, Romeo and Juliet had met, the plan for their elope was made, and now Juliet had awoken after Romeo kissed her for the final time and drank his poison.

"You go! I'll stay here with my husband!" Wendy ordered Kenny, the friar, who obeyed and got off stage.

"Oh, Romeo, how could you kill yourself and leave me nothing to kill _myself_ with?" The audience snickered. "I see…so you drank poison. Maybe, if I kiss you, there will still be poison on your lips that will kill me!"

With much gusto, Wendy bent over and kissed the seemingly unconscious Cartman. After a thorough kiss, Wendy pulled away panting.

"Nothing!" she grabbed his dagger, "Then I'll stab myself! Oh, happy dagger! Here is your sheath!"

With a small flair, Wendy "stabbed" herself, moaned agonizingly, then collapsed on top of Cartman, "dead."

The Prince, the Capulets, the Friar, and the Montagues all assembled, listening to the Prince's lesson on how hatred passes on and hurts everyone. Montague and Capulet nodded, looking at each other meaningfully, deciding to put aside their hatred.

Gerald watched on, mesmerized, and convinced from the beginning that either Stan and Kyle were great actors, or they really did love each other. Stan knew Gerald had been shocked by his and Kyle's performance, but Stan was determined to go above and beyond to prove to both Kyle and Gerald that what Stan felt was real.

As the Prince said his last line, Stan steeled his nerves, stepped forward, and spoke.

"Montague! We should take a lesson from our children. They were determined to love each other! Why not us?"

Kyle, taken aback, quickly thought on his feet. "I-I'm sorry, Capulet. I…" green eyes glance at the audience, seeking out Gerald. "I can't disappoint my family like that. I can't lose my family. Besides…this isn't our story."

"No," Stan replied, "but it can be _our_ happy ending."

Kyle smiled at Stan softly. Kyle knew how he felt and, honestly, it didn't matter what his family thought. There was no way Kyle could go back to pretending to be heterosexual and marry some bimbo. And even if Kyle tried the homosexual life, he wouldn't be happy. The only person Kyle could ever envision himself with was Stan.

And living a nice, comfortable life with Stan sounded like heaven.

Suddenly, "Something About Us" began to play; in the corner, by the sound booth, Kyle saw both Kenny and Bebe smiling at him encouragingly.

'Go for it!' Bebe mouthed.

'Be happy,' Kenny winked.

Kyle tried valiantly not to cry as he faced Stan, a broad grin on the Jew's face. Stan smiled back just as exuberantly.

"_It might not be the right time,_

_I might not be the right one._

_But, there's something about us I want to say,_

_Cause there's something between us, anyway."_

The redhead moved determinedly towards Stan; in turn, the brunet strode quickly to Kyle. They met in the middle of the stage, where Kyle gave his father a very pointed look. Then, he turned to Stan again, because, damn it all, he was in love with his super best friend and he still hadn't said it out loud to him.

"I love you," Kyle breathed, the world lifting from his shoulders. "I love you so much, I don't know what to do with myself half the time. I hate that it took me this long to realize that I love you. I hate that people got hurt along the way. I guess…me loving you became second nature—like breathing. Capulet…wait, no; fuck that. Stanley Marsh of South Park, Colorado, I fucking love you."

"_I might not be the right one._

_It might not be the right time._

_But there's something about us I've got to do._

_Some kind of secret I will share with you."_

The beaming smile on Stan's face was almost blinding as he took in Kyle's speech. With a sniff, Stan looked deeply into Kyle's eyes, placing his hands on either side of Kyle's face.

"Kyle Broflovski—technically from New Jersey, but born in South Park, Colorado—'_I need you more than anything in my life. I want you more than anything in my life. I'll miss you more than anyone in my life. I'll love you more than anyone in my life.'_" Stan finished singing and leaned his forehead against Kyle's, "Now stop being a sentimental pussy and kiss me."

The Jew smirked back, eyebrow raised with the promise of a rebuttal later, then leaned in and pressed his lips against Stan's. The boys didn't notice as the crowd erupted in cheers; they didn't notice the happy smiles on their parents' faces; they didn't notice the relief and joy their friends displayed; they didn't even notice as God arrived with Jesus and Satan to congratulate them.

No; there was something about them that made love as easy as "Stan and Kyle."

* * *

Holy shit. That's the end.

I, uh…fuck. This is the first time I've finished something with chapters. I don't know how to deal with this. I…I hope it was okay. There's an epilogue….so…yeah.


	18. Something About Us Reprise

Well, here's the epilogue and the real end of **Bromance is for Pussies**. Thanks for the ride, folks.

* * *

Stan was starting to get fed up. It had been _weeks_ since Kyle confessed his love to Stan. Gerald wasn't even that mad about it! Hell, Gerald practically gave Stan his blessing! Stan had been really, really, _really_ obvious about what he wanted. Hell, Kyle sure as hell didn't object. The brunet sighed and threw himself back on his bed.

He didn't understand it. He'd go over to the Jew's house and Kyle would open the door with a "Hey, Stan," and a smile; Stan would smile back, lean over, and kiss him. And Kyle would smile more, with an adorable light dust of red on his cheeks, and invite Stan in and nothing! Kyle wouldn't let Stan go farther and the Jew wouldn't bring the subject up.

Stan groaned and got up. He needed some advice. He nodded to himself, knowing where he needed to go for it.

* * *

Stan walked up to Chef's grave and frowned. He removed the slowly dying flowers and replanted some more flowers around the gravestone.

_Hello there, children, _the wind whispered.

"Hey, Chef," Stan replied.

_Thanks for the flowers._

"No problem, Chef."

_Now, what's wrong, Stan?_

Stan sighed heavily, "I did everything right. Kyle and Bebe broke up; Bebe isn't sad about it and neither is Kyle; Kenny and me are still great friends and he's even starting to get over loving me; Cartman and Wendy got together and they're so freaking happy. So, when is it gonna be my turn? It's there! I can feel it! I know how Kyle feels about me! But…but we're not together."

_Well, Stan, did you ask him?_

Stan blinked.

"Ask him what?"

_Ask him on a date so you could ask him to be your boyfriend._

"Wha…?"

_Stan,_ the wind sighed exasperatedly, _Kyle isn't easy. He may know exactly how you feel, but that doesn't mean he isn't entitled to a proper proposal. Take him on a classy date and ask him,_ formally_, to be your boyfriend._

"Is…really? That's all?"

The wind laughed.

_That's all, Stan. After all…_

The voice began to fade and a small gust of wind passed by Stan's ear, petting his hair.

_Love is simple when it's real._

* * *

In his living room, Stan looked at the people he had assembled:

A florist: Flora the florist.

A pervert: Kenny McCormick

A fatass: Eric Cartman

An environmentalist: Wendy Testaburger

A gay man: Herbert Garrison

A melvin: Leopold "Butters" Stotch

A giant douche: Dave the giant douche

A turd sandwich: Cleo the turd sandwich

And another Jew: Gerald Brofloski

He looked at his crew and nodded, but realized he needed one more person. He asked his committee to wait in his living room, walked to a yellow house covered in booby traps, and grinned.

He made a sound like a dying giraffe.

Immediately, the Mole jumped out of his two-story window, landed effortlessly on the ground with a knife in his mouth and two more in his hands, and looked frantically around for guard dogs.

"Sorry, Mole, no guard dogs," Stan smiled.

The Mole glared at him and stood up, putting his weapons away. "Zen what ees eet?"

"I need your help for a mission."

* * *

Kyle Brofloski sat in his room, staring at the calculus homework he should've been doing. He smiled, realizing this wasn't the first time he had neglected homework in favor of thinking about a certain brunet he knew. He groaned and threw his head back. Why couldn't Stan just _get_ it? _Yes_, Kyle loved him back. _Yes_, Kyle wanted to be his boyfriend. _Yes_, Kyle wanted to get _laid_. But he wasn't going to be that easy. The Jew had decided that until Stan _formally_ asked him out, he would refuse to go farther than giving the taller boy a kiss. He sighed; talking to Chef about it had made him feel a little bit better, but it certainly didn't bring Stan over to his porch, and it certainly didn't have the brunet asking if Kyle would be Stan's boyfriend.

He sighed again and wondered when he'd become such a girl. Suddenly, his ears perked. He heard the sound of a dying giraffe. Rolling his eyes, he walked to his window and opened it, expecting to see Stan.

"I don't do balcony scenes, Stan," he called.

"Eet ees not Stan, you faggot!" the Mole hissed, "Eet ees me, ze Mole!"

"Mole? What's up?"

"Zere is trouble! You must come wiz me!"

Kyle frowned. "Why?"

Suddenly, the sound of an explosion went off in the direction of Stan's house. Kyle's eyes grew wide with worry and he rushed downstairs; he stuffed his feet into his shoes, threw on his parka, and hurriedly grabbed his keys.

"Mom, dad, I have to go!" he yelled. When he heard nothing back, he raised a brow and quickly ran around the house.

No one was home.

Kyle began to hyperventilate—he _knew_ that just ten minutes ago, Ike was watching TV, his mom was cooking, and his dad was reading some books in his study. All that remained were a still-on TV, some pots boiling over in the kitchen, and an open book in the study. Kyle bit his lower lip and ran outside to the Mole.

"What is going on, Mole?"

"I don't know! All I know is that someone tried to break into my house, and zey were not from here! All of a sudden, people started vanishing. We must go to the safest place we can find!"

"But what about my family? What about Stan?"

"Zere is no 'ope for zem!"

"No! We have to at least check Stan's house!"

The Mole groaned. "Fucking faggot…fine! Let's go!"

The two boys ran over to Stan's house. As soon as they were out of sight, Gerald, Sheila, and Ike came out of hiding. Ike giggled and Gerald and Sheila watched their oldest son run away.

"Go be happy, bubbi," the Jewish mother whispered.

Meanwhile, Kyle and the Mole had arrived to the burnt remnants of Stan's house.

"Stan!" Kyle cried and ran into the rubble, turning over whatever he could. Suddenly, his phone went off. He recognized it as the ringtone for Stan and, hurriedly, pulled it out and answered.

"Stan! Stan, where are you?"

"I'm okay, Kyle. My family and I went out to go shopping. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Kyle smiled. "Where are you?"

"We're being held hostage! They're making me call you."

"Who? Who's doing this?"

"I can't tell you or they'll kill me. Just listen to their demands and do them, okay? They have your family, too!"

Kyle grit his teeth and muttered something in the positive. The phone was handed over and a dark, sinister voice came over the phone.

"Hello, Broflovski."

"What the hell do you want?"

"Do these trifles for me and I'll let your loved ones go, understand?"

"Why?"

"Because it amuses me."

"What the hell do you want, you sick fuck?"

"First, go put on a nice suit."

"…_What_?"

"Unless you want me to put a bullet through Stanley's head?"

Kyle gasped and sighed. "All right, all right. Put on a suit. What else?"

"Then come to the _Ville de' Amour_ restaurant."

"…Okay."

"You must come completely empty handed. No phone, no wallet, no keys…nothing."

"All right…"

"Oh, and one more thing."

"What?" Kyle hissed.

"You have ten minutes."

"What the…wait a minute…_Cartman_?"

The line went dead; Kyle growled and threw the phone to the ground in fury, breaking it. The Mole put a hand on the other boy's shoulder.

"C'mon. We should 'urry."

Kyle nodded. The Mole hotwired a nearby car and drove Kyle to his house in record speed. As they drove away, neither boy noticed a giant douche and a turd sandwich shaking hands and picking up the explosives they'd used. They shut off the high-end projected that displayed realistic images on the house next to the ashes of the burnt rubble to reveal the Marsh's _actual_ house. The mayor came up to them, thanking them for the large sum of money they had provided. In turn, the douche and turd sandwich thanked the mayor for letting them buy the house, paint it Stan's house's color, and then allowing them to blow it up.

Kyle, unaware of everything going around him, was completely focused on getting his suit on as quickly as possible. He worried his bottom lip with his teeth while the Mole helped him with his cravat.

"Stop bouncing," the Mole muttered.

Kyle sighed and nodded, stilling his motions. Finally, the Mole had finished and the two rushed back into the car, the Mole driving him to the restaurant. Kyle sighed as they arrived on time. He looked at the Mole, eyes wide.

"Go. If zey see me, everyzing will be over. You must go…alone."

Kyle gulped and nodded, but fortified his will and walked in expecting the worst.

Inside, stood a smiling, suited Stan Marsh, holding a bouquet of flowers—lilies, to be exact—next to a table that said "reserved;" the maitre'd stared at Kyle.

"Sir, I assume you're here for your date?" he asked.

"My wha?" Kyle replied intelligently.

Stan chuckled, walked over, and gently grabbed the Jew's hand. The brunet led him over to the table and sat Kyle down, then sat down across from him. Kyle looked around, noticing they were the only ones there and all throughout the restaurant, lilies were placed on every table and every window. A string quartet was playing a soft, instrumental version of "Something About Us" in the corner. Smiling, Stan handed the stunned redhead the flowers.

"But…I…you…bwuh?"

Stan proceeded to explain how Gerald got Sheila and Ike to hide; how the Mole was just trying to keep Kyle busy while everything was being set; how Cartman played the bad guy; how the giant douche and turd sandwich blew up a replica house of Stan's; how Kenny had told him what Kyle's favorite flowers were; how Flora had arranged all the lilies for Stan and saved him a special bouquet for Kyle; how Garrison had helped him reserve the entire restaurant for just the two of them (he refused to say how, though Kyle noticed it caused Stan to blush); how Wendy had gotten the band at school to play as a quartet; and, finally, he explained how Butters taught the quartet how to play their song.

Kyle was stunned, but slowly, a smile formed on his face.

"You did all this…for me?"

"Well, I had some help," Stan blushed, "but yes. All of this is for you."

The maitre'd walked over, put two glasses of wine on their table and stood ready with a pen and pad.

"What would you like to order, sir?"

Kyle smiled at Stan, then looked at his menu. The evening passed as they ate and talked, Kyle still amazing by Stan's trick. They talked about school, about friends, and about each other. Slowly, Stan's hand had inched over until it was on top of Kyle's, and the Jew made no move to change that. The quartet continued to play soft music in the corner, and soon, the end of the meal was reached.

As Kyle sipped on his coffee, he looked over the rim of his mug at the boy across the table. His absolute best friend since birth, and here he was…on a date with him. Kyle couldn't help the excited grin on his lips, or the blush when Stan caught the Jew staring. Stan smiled at him, stood, and held a hand out expectantly. Kyle smiled as "Something About Us" began to play in the restaurant; he stood, taking the brunet's hand, and let Stan guide him to the dance floor.

Gently, Kyle wrapped his arms around Stan's shoulders, hugging the boy close. Stan wrapped his arms around Kyle's waist, smiling to himself. They moved together slowly, completely oblivious to the world around them.

"_It might not be the right time,"_ Stan softly sang in Kyle's ear, _"I might not be the right one. But there's something about us I want to say…'cause there's something between us anyway."_

True to his word, this time, Stan thought only of Kyle—Kyle moving, Kyle breathing, Kyle's lips, Kyle's smile, Kyle's everything—and Stan smiled, silently thanking Kenny.

He leisurely separated himself from Kyle, smiling tenderly. Kyle smiled back at him, his emerald eyes shining.

"Kyle…I love you. I mean, I really love you. I always have and I always will. I'm sorry I didn't do this sooner, but…will you be my boyfriend?"

Kyle chuckled and kissed Stan lightly. "Took you long enough, fag."

Stan grinned. "I take that as a yes."

Stan leaned in and Kyle met him halfway. They stopped dancing and kissed passionately, letting their tongues do the dancing instead. Stan held Kyle as close as he could and he planned on never letting go. Kyle tightened his grip on Stan's shoulders, thinking the exact same thing.

"_I need you more than anything in my life._

_I want you more than anything in my life._

_I'll miss you more than anyone in my life._

_I love you more than anyone in my life."_

...

..

.

_"I love you too, Stan…more than anyone in my life."_

* * *

I actually wrote this epilogue after I finished writing Chapter 9. But…wow. This means that **Bromance is for Pussies** is really over for good.

I really don't know how I feel about that, but I hoped you guys enjoyed. Thanks for sticking with me this long. As promised, there will be a sequel entitled **Birds**, after I finish my _Hey Arnold!_ story.

List of songs

1. Something About Us by Daft Punk

2. Sink to the Bottom by Fountains of Wayne

3. Voyager by Daft Punk

4. Right Where You Want Me by Jesse McCartney

5. Phoenix Wright~Objection! by Noriyuki Iwadare

6. Cosmo Canyon by Nobou Uematsu

7. Maya's Theme~Turnabout Sisters by Noriyuki Iwadare

8. Many Moons by Janelle Monae

**South Park is owned by Matt Stone and Trey Parker and Comedy Central. Flora is protected under the Creative Commons Copyright. **

**Bromance is for Pussies**

_**fin**_


	19. A Note

Yo.

Sorry to disappoint those of you who thought this might be another chapter; _Bromance_ is definitely over and I will not add extra chapters.

However, reading a review (specifically from GlibCharm) earlier today gave me an idea. I've got a lot going on with life and, while the _Hey Arnold!_ story isn't really a story, it is taking a while to finish and I don't want you guys to give up on the sequel for _Bromance_. Furthermore, I don't want to lose interest in writing for South Park so that when _Birds_ finally does come out, it's not mediocre and written just because I promised it. So, this is just a notice for those of you who are interested.

I'm going to be writing mini-stories in the _Bromance_ universe to keep myself tided until _Birds_ begins. If you'd like to read these stories, you'll have to add me to your author alert, because they will not be added to _Bromance._ And, as much as I want to sound innocent and all, this is totally a plug :P Sorry. Still, the only way to see these stories is to either check back periodically, or add me to your alerts. This is just a heads up and a thank you.

Oh, yeah. I'm a girl. Most people tend to think I'm a guy, but I'm definitely a girl.

I'm also still looking for a beta. No such luck.


End file.
